Lucius Malfoy and the Chamber of Secrets
by unlikely2
Summary: From a far, desperate future, Lucius Malfoy will be sent back to change the past. Helped by Narcissa and Severus, and henched by Britain's sneakiest house elf, he's about to begin his hero's journey. Of course, he doesn't know that yet.
1. CIn which our hero has a rough night

The bird shrieked and exploded.

Lucius Malfoy looked down at the mess on the grass, on his boots, on his trousers and shirt . . . on up to his elbow and then back down to his dripping wand.

Peacocks really were full of it.

At least this one had been before it had so unwisely decided to announce its presence. Lucius cursed quietly. The elves were bound to report the creature's untidy demise to Narcissa, his elegant, exquisite, lovely wife, who was also rather more ruthless, by several orders of magnitude, than a starved kneazle and wouldn't be at all happy.

_Dammit but I need some decent sleep,_ he thought, wondering, somewhat blearily, how best to deal with this act of unintended butchery. There wasn't enough left of the thing for soup._ 'I am a Malfoy:_ said the voice in his head, _'incriminate.'_

_That might work,_ he thought, beginning to vanish the larger, meatier bits making the destruction appear more like the work of predatory wildlife. _Right now_, he decided, a_ change of clothing would be in order,_ before he, yet again, went through the family's increasingly straightened finances in a search for some small and previously unappreciated modicum of slack.

He really did not want to have to tell Narcissa.

The Malfoy name dated back many centuries, and there were still vineyards in France as well as a small, fortified farmhouse but the real money had been more recent and always rather less that was generally supposed. He'd been made uncomfortably aware that her family considered that she could do better and only the disgrace of her older sister's defection had eventually permitted their marriage. That, of course, and Bella making it publicly known that, because she couldn't bear to disappoint either Rudolphus or Rabastan, she was going to marry them both.

She had been such a sweet girl. Once.

If he told his wife she would, of course, be charming and understanding. And then she would do something entirely insane in an effort to be helpful, before leaving him to sort it out. There had to be some loose change in Hogwarts but he was, despite the ongoing series of petrifactions and his own best efforts, as yet no closer to the purse strings than he had been at the beginning of the year. Lucius sat down, opened a ledger and allowed his mind to wander.

Briefly, he smiled. Brooms for the entire Quiddich team had been an excellent wheeze: his various creditors, witnessing this largess had been convinced once again of the security of their money, not guessing how little Lucius had actually paid.

Given the ridiculous size of the mark-up on the 'Two Thousand and One' and the fact that, once Slytherin had them, the three other teams were bound to follow suit, and that Lucius had been kind enough to point out this opportunity to the proprietor of Quality Quiddich Supplies, a substantial discounting of his own purchase was only to be expected. Blackmail had been entirely superfluous. He'd felt slightly ashamed of allowing habit to get the better of him.

Unfortunately, that had been months ago. While the humans were becoming more twitchy, the smiles on the Goblins only got wider. In retrospect, he had been stupid. His investments had turned out poorly and, while Arthur Weasley's incursions had been an excellent excuse for disposing of darker artefacts, he had precious few of those left and very little time left to come up with anything else. Leaning back, Lucius closed his eyes, not noticing as his breathing slowed and he drifted into sleep.

_Below, in the moonlight, a single remaining, blackened chimney stood above the snow like an accusing finger but the loss of the manor was an old, old pain. What was causing his heart to break within his chest was the soft breathing of the child within his arms whom he been unable to wake; who now would never awaken again. From a patch of shadow a single, black snowflake drifted slowly upwards followed by others, getting closer, quickly becoming humanoid."Eighty two percent," he said. A number on a screen._

_'It will have to do.' The woman's voice was soft but clear over a low humming the cause of which wasn't evident. 'We do _not_ want to take them with us. Ready?'_

_'Ready.'_

_'Engage._

Lucius' eyes shot open: his ledgers; his study; his heart racing and breathing heavy. A sensation of utter horror enveloped him and he found himself shivering. He lurched to his feet and began striding back and forth. Over the last few weeks the nightmares, though unremembered, had become steadily worse. Now, for the first time, he had something coherent: Dementors, obviously, but the craft he'd been riding in was strange: unfamiliar and with a strong suggestion of muggle. He stopped and took a deep breath to steady himself.

_Alegria,_ he thought. _The child's name had been Alegria,_ and she had been the last of his line. It had been just a dream but still it had possessed the power to create a scouring ache within him. He'd talk to Severus, except that Severus, of course, reported to Dumbledore.

_What?_ he found himself asking himself. _Where did that come from? Why would Severus tell that saggy old encumbrance anything? _He forced himself to look out at the sunlit lawns beyond the terrace and the rose garden: the real and the ordinary that suddenly felt like anything but.

There had to be a reason for such outlandish nightmares. If he really insisted, Severus would help him find it. Remembering the last time he had spoken with the Potions Master, Lucius winced. 'Most people when they're feeling under the weather, do not automatically assume that they have been cursed,' he'd been told in the most obnoxiously reasonable tone the younger wizard could contrive. 'Have you tried _"Pepper-up_"?'

A murmur and a crystal glass and a flask of brandy appeared at his elbow. As he poured, he noticed that his hand was shaking. He forced himself to sit down and re-address the problem of his finances.

'Hello darling,' said Narcissa.

As the witch bent over him and placed a soft kiss on his brow, Lucius breathed in her fragrance He caught her hand. 'I do love you,' he said.

She gazed at him.

He let go. 'I'm sorry. Bad dreams.' Lucius picked up his glass. Again, she looked but said nothing. 'How was your meeting?'

'Useful.'

Narcissa removed the golden combs from her hair, shaking it free over her perfect shoulders. 'Lucius, my love, they were all very polite, but it was my turn to host in April. If we'd a town house, I could invite them there. But as we don't . . ..' She, of course, thought he was just being needlessly stubborn. He really, really didn't want to tell her that the current 'refurbishing' had only continued as long as it had because he could not afford to get their furniture out of hock. She sighed. 'Well. Are you feeling any better?'

That he didn't reply was answer enough. She summoned a chair and sat down facing him. 'Tell me, exactly, what's wrong.'

'I have nightmares. They terrify me. But when I wake up I can't remember anything.'

'Oh,' said Narcissa, her grey eyes gazing into his, 'That sounds awful.'

'That's not all of it,' said Lucius, 'You know the voice in your head? The one that says"Shut up," or "Now would be a good time to leave"?' She nodded. 'Or even "You look a right pillock in that"?'

Narcissa's eyes widened. 'It says that?'

'It says that.' _Obviously it didn't say things like that to her._ 'It's getting quite vocal. Chatty even. There are all these thoughts in my head and they're not mine.' He swallowed. 'I don't think they're mine.'

'Who _do_ you think they belong to?'

'I don't know but he's a sarcastic bastard.'

'Could it be some sort of haunting?' Narcissa paled. 'Possession?'

'Not according to the diagnostic spells I've tried.' He emptied the brandy with one swallow. 'And, darling, there's something else.'

She turned her gaze upon him: waited while Lucius courage took the fast train South.

It's not important,' he tried to smile, 'but I think we might have a fox.' He _wasn't_ lying. Really, it would be most surprising if they hadn't.

'Really?'

'I found what was left of one of our peacocks.' _After._ _No word of a lie._ 'I could have traps set.'

Narcissa got up got up and took his glass toward the decanter on his desk. Lucius sighed inaudibly as she refilled it. 'This and no more,' she said as she handed it to him before leaning in conspiratorially. 'Actually, I rather like foxes.'

Lucius smiled and waved the glass in a silent a toast to her. He took a long swallow and then choked.

'If it's any sort of possession, that should flush it out, said Narcissa.

_Not just brandy in the glass. _

'Old family recipe, she continued. 'You don't want to finish that? No, perhaps not. I'll have the elves put you in the pale green guest room. That will be most convenient.' Lucius found that he couldn't draw breath. 'Don't worry, the vomiting is over very quickly.' Narcissa murmured something and Lucius found himself, abruptly, facing porcelain. Leaning over, he was violently sick.

By the time the spasms had finally subsided and he could vanish the bowl that he's been using, perforce, having had a different use for the toilet, he'd discovered what was so convenient about the pale green guest room: the bed was only a few (short) steps away from his current location. It was, he'd very soon realised, going to be a long night.

Long after dawn had incited its avian, dark-thoughts-inspiring frenzy in the shrubberies outside, Lucius dreamed.

_He dreamed of Greyback making little, playful snaps at Narcissa's throat, while Bellatrix's hems left wet, red streaks on marble stairs; of Draco's frightened, grey eyes, his only child grown almost to a man, still trusting his father to do _something_. Endless, endless screaming from the cellars. Peter Pettigrew - Wormtail, sniggering at him from a corner whilst devouring an entire bird, like the rat that he was, with bare, greasy, mismatched hands. _

_He dreamed of the Dark Lord's reptilian derision when, after everything else had been stolen, he took Lucius' wand and all that was left of his pride. Rage exploded. 'You can stop him,' urged the voice in his head that sounded so familiar. 'You can stop all of that._' Spinning towards it, he woke to a faceful of orange fur.

Lucius shrieked and leaped off the toilet. Something orange, furry and squashed looking was jammed against the sink still holding his imprint where he had been sleeping against it. With a sort of rustling, rushing sound, part of it slumped to the ground. Lucius took a deep breath and began tidying himself up.

'Dobby.' The elf appeared. 'What is that?'

'Dobby doesn't know, master. Shall Dobby punish himself?'

'No.' He stared at the creature, distinctly _remembering_ it declaring that Dobby was '_a free elf',_ just before getting knifed by Bellatrix and the terrible loss of that most unusual of sensations: hope.

_Because Potter had been supposed to destroy the Dark Lord. _

And then Dobby had taken Potter and his friends away, before _He _could arrive - straight out through all the wards – which actually could explain how his wife had banished Lucius to the bathroom the previous evening: if that too had not been the the hallucinatory remains of a nightmare. It seemed to Lucius that there was something not quite right about the peacock and the potion. Even now, reality seemed a bit off. Considering the orange anomaly, he was tempted to pinch himself or, better, tell Dobby to pinch himself.

_'No,' _said the voice in his head.

_That wouldn't work? t_hought Lucius.

_'No it wouldn't.' _The voice sounded irritated.

The elf had stopped wringing his hands and now merely stood there looking confused. If he'd been entirely convinced that he was dreaming, Lucius would cheerfully have _'AK'_ed the little beast.

Early in their marriage Narcissa had suggested that one of the elves be specifically assigned to Lucius and he, not yet knowing his new bride very well, had agreed without question. He was soon to discover not only did that mean that all the other elves answered to _her_ but also that, strangely enough, _his_ servant - Dobby - was the one that was a past master of obfuscation and fully paid up member of the awkward squad.

_Ok, idiot. Try again_. 'Do you know where it came from?'

'No. Master.' Large head shaking so fast that Lucius thought the elf might hurt himself with his own ears.

'Do you know how it got here?'

No. Master.'

'Do you have any ideas?'

The elf stopped shaking his head, open-mouthed at being asked such a question. Meanwhile, enough of the amorphous, orange monstrosity had fallen into its lower region, the bit in the sink flipped over and the whole thing slumped forward. Dobby shrieked and leaped backwards; Lucius hit the furry intruder with a cutting curse. Immediately innumerable little white beads resembling hailstones began pouring out, spreading over the bathroom floor _Ok. Bad idea, _thought Lucius.'Well,' he said, 'Get rid of it.'

The elf clicked his fingers and the orange fur disappeared with an explosion of tiny, white balls which were now sticking all over everything.

Including Lucius.

Dobby head butted the sink.

'Stop that.' He found himself restraining the little creature. 'Stop punishing yourself.' They both considered the snow-like layer. Lucius removed the beads adhering to his nose and chin. 'Just get rid of them. Right? But first run me a bath, not here – in my own bathroom and fetch me a pot of tea and . . .' But Dobby had already vanished.

It wasn't a problem. There would be various remedies in the cabinet behind the mirror, including one for hangovers.

Squinting vaguely at the ranks of little bottles, he found one the right colour, opened it, swallowed the contents and then waited while his headache continued unabated and his stomach churned in what he decided was a peculiarly mocking fashion.

Two things occurred to Lucius at this point: that there was definitely something something amiss with regard to his mental state and that,whatever it was that he'd taken, it hadn't been hangover remedy. Lucius opened one eye and attempted to decipher the label. "_Felix Felices." Lovely._ The trouble being that luck borrowed had to be repaid, usually with interest and, in accordance with Finagle's corollary to the Sod-Murphy Law, at the worst possible time.

_'Not if you pass it on.' _And here was something new: a female voice talking in his head and sounding very like the woman from his nightmare.

_Excuse me,_'he told it, _I don't believe we've met. My name is Lucius Abraxus Malfoy. _In the silence that followed Lucius undressed and fled the white invasion to his own rooms by means of apparition.

The tea he found waiting was exactly to his taste and the temperature of the bath just right.

Perhaps, he consoled himself while soaking along with his tea and only four small, white beads, he'd confused Dobby by being reasonable and the elf was just doing things right for a change.

He couldn't help wondering what would happen if he did try to pass on his good fortune. As he was currently under the influence of _'Felix Felices'_ his thought that staying at home and doing nothing would not prevent the accrual of the luck debt, merely waste an opportunity was probably right. He'd go and see Severus, he decided. His old friend could do with some good luck.

And then he'd to wonder when he'd last considered anyone, outside of family, as more than 'potentially useful'.

Narcissa glanced up from the dining table.

'Hello darling,' she said, brightly. 'I'd not expected to see you so early. Feeling better?' Lucius grunted and lowered his abused posterior onto a chair. 'If you can remember any of your dreams from last night, they might give us a clue as to who or what was responsible.

'The Dark Arse,' said Lucius.

Narcissa's eyes widened. 'The Dark Lord is gone,' she said carefully. 'How could he . . ..'

'Horcuxes,' interjected Lucius. 'Lots of Horcruxes. Oh and Peter Pettigrew, who is actually an animagus and is currently residing with the Weasleys as their pet rat Scabbers.'

Narcissa gave a thoroughly unladylike snort. 'Oh I wish. I do get so very tired of Mr. Weasley's little visits. What sort of employment is that for a Pureblood.'

'Would it be better if he wasn't?'

Narcissa looked thoughtful but any answer she might have made was interrupted by an elf announcing that Minister Fudge wanted to speak with Lucius Malfoy "whenever convenient" which, of course, meant right away. Reassured by the '_Felix Felices,_' Lucius ordered kippers and poached eggs and toast.

He still had to wait ten minutes to be admitted to Fudge's office, only to discover the Minister of Magic pointing his wand up his own nose. Lucius coughed. While he knew spells for trimming nasal hairs _he_ didn't use them in public.

'Ah, Lucius. No problem I hope?'

'I was dining. I assumed that you would have said were it urgent?

'No, no. Not at all. Do sit down. Tea?'

'Thank you, no.' Lucius sat, lifted an ankle over his knee, and waited.

Fudge opened his mouth and shut it and opened it again. 'I'm on the fund raising committee for Saint Mungo's again.' He smiled, picked up a quill and dipped it into the inkwell. 'As we're hoping to do quite a bit better this year, shall we say a thousand?'

'No,' said Lucius.

Fudge appeared surprised. 'Two?' he suggested.

'No.'

'I beg your pardon?'

Now Fudge was astonished. For that matter, so was Lucius. He let the '_Felix Felices'_ talk. 'On various occasions, every year, you take it upon yourself to promise financial assistance on my behalf and each and every time I ask you not to.'

'Yes, you do say that. Every time.' Fudge beamed. 'But you always pay up in the end.'

'Which clearly doesn't act as any sort of disincentive to your volunteering other people's money.' Lucius said, brushing invisible dust off his robes. 'It's not such a terribly large amount, Cornelius. I'm sure you'll have no difficulty funding it yourself.'

The idiot started rearranging papers. 'Mrs. Fudge is not low maintenance witch,'

Except that the problem was not the Minister of Magic's _wife. _

'You have met Narcissa?' inquired Lucius. 'You should know that I have never, for a moment, regretted marrying her, or once thought of another witch, so I understand entirely but, alas, I cannot help you.

Fudge stared. The expression '_bulldog chewing a wasp_' drifted through Lucius's mind. 'I would hate to have to tell them that someone had let me down.'

And there it was: something that sounded almost like a threat: one that suggested that Fudge was quite aware of the precarious state of his finances. And still he kept digging.

'Might I ask: have you been offered a seat on the Board of Saint Mungo's yet?' enquired Lucius.

'Well, no. Not yet.' _Make that several wasps._

'No. And it's been what? Ten years? Well, for myself, I intend trying something different this year and I strongly suggest that you do the same. And now, if there's nothing else?' Fudge looked constipated. Lucius saw himself out.

He found Narcissa on the terrace of Malfoy Manor holding a letter. 'This has just arrived for you,' she said. 'I've checked it. It's clean.'

Surreptitiously, Lucius tried two more spells - just a letter. He opened it.

_Dear mr Malfoy._

_I hav ritin to profeser Mcgonagal but seeing as she is doing the hedmarsters job on top of hers and wot is hapening at hogwarts I dont espect she has time to reed it so I am riting to you as chairman of the bored of Governors._

_Most people dont no this but that Peter Petigroo hoo got a order of Merlin for geting kiled by Sirius Black was a rat animag. Wot is importint is I was heering that Ron Wesley hes in Grifindoor has got a rat with a finger mising and as you mite remember all that was fownd of Petigroo was his finger and I wish you wood look into it._

_Yors sinseerly_

_A frend._

Narcissa took the letter from his hand and considered it as though she had not, in fact, dictated and had it posted herself. 'Mr Weasley is always so very concerned about what we might have in the house,' she said, handing it back. 'Maybe you _should_ look into it. At least check up at the school.'

_'Why not?' _said the _'Felix Felices._ Lucius brushed a kiss across his wife's cheek.

He'd wanted to see Severus anyway.

* * *

I am still having problems with Adventures with Aurors in that every time I try to write the next chapter my computer dies. This is a problem,

I thought I'd see if all my attempts at fic were so cursed. Here goes.


	2. In which our hero isn't quite himself

**In which our hero isn't quite himself.**

It was with an increasing sense of disorientation that Lucius made his way through the castle Where were all the children?

He remembered, what seemed an incredibly long time ago, sneaking the diary in amongst the Weasley girl's books with every expectation of it causing trouble for Dumbledore and her family once the salient facts emerged but, for the first time, he almost wished he hadn't.

The quiet school felt . . . wrong and it bothered him more than he would have thought possible. He concentrated on letting the_ 'Felix Felices' _ he had inadvertently ingested locate Severus and eventually found him in rather fraught discussion with the Acting Headmistress. 'What's happening?' he enquired.

'Ginny Weasley is missing,' McGonagall replied. Lucius had never thought to see her look so defeated. She gestured and he took in the dripping, red letters on the wall.

_Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever._

Intellectually, Lucius felt irritated.

This was the posturing of a spiteful brat. He hadn't time for such ignorant and, frankly, boring histrionics. At the same time he felt, deep within himself, something unfolding and solidifying and then pressure building to the point of fracture until an explosion of previously unrecognised rage and determination flooded through him carrying away the broken pieces. 'Search for her,' he found himself growling. 'Use everything you have. Ghosts. Portraits. Get the house elves looking for her. Cupboards. Attics. The grounds. The child is somewhere.

They were staring at him.

'The last time this happened, a girl died?'

Yes,' said McGonagall quietly, 'Myrtle . . ..'

Moaning Myrtle?' McGonagall nodded. 'What did she say?

'Well, I . . .'

'Fine. I'll speak to her.'

Lucius Malfoy strode down the corridor, his mind a passenger in his body, but by now, entirely unconcerned. This dream wasn't remotely as awful as the last one he'd had although clearly it had that potential. After all, Draco was here. Merlin but what had he been thinking. Had he been thinking at all? He needed to rescue the girl and dispose of the incriminating diary.

Not necessarily in that order.

'Lucius?' Severus was beside him, looking uncertain.

For a moment, something like the ghost of a small child's breathing seemed to brush against his cheek. 'We'll find her.' Lucius slammed through the door into the girls' toilet and stopped dead.

In front of him, he had no doubt at all, lay the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

From the gap between the sinks emerged a voice that, as they listened, proposed abandoning the child and destroying the minds of his witnesses, all to further Lockhart's literary career.

While Lucius was still trying to process the sheer ineptitude of what his disbelieving ears were telling him, Snape had heard enough. He turned and dropped through the hole, disillusioning himself as he went, his shoes already silenced by default.

A short time later there came a crunching sound, _'like a body falling onto many tiny skeletons,' _thought Lucius, just before an unexpected tug launched him head first into the gap. Given the state of the tunnel down which he found himself sliding, he could only be grateful that he was as quick as he was with a shield charm.

'Professor Snape?' It might have been the acoustics but the boys weren't sounding all that relieved to be rescued.

'I believe,' Severus could be heard saying. 'that amongst the abyssal plains of wilful, student idiocy, you have succeeded, finally, in plumbing new and unsuspected depths.'

Lucius cleared the pipe and decelerated though the ancient midden of the floor. Severus ignored him in favour of snarling 'Why did you not inform a teacher?' at Potter and Weasley.

The incoming wizard got to his (thankfully booted) feet. 'That was entirely unnecessary,' he said. 'I would have come down without your summoning me.

'We did tell a teacher.' Ronald Weasley indicated something in pastel coloured robes, breathing gently, amid the accumulated detritus.

Snape hit Lockhart with another stunner. 'A teacher, not . . ..'

'We need to find my sister, sir!

'Right.' The Potions Professor put Lucius in mind of a small thundercloud. 'You and Potter stay here . . ..'

'You need Harry to open doors. And I don't fancy being left here on my own with a basilisk roaming around!'

'A basilisk?' inquired Lucius, delicately.

Weasley swung to face him. 'Harry kept hearing something talking in the walls. He's a Parselmouth, so that suggested some sort of snake and a Basilisk petrifies its prey. Hermione worked it out weeks ago. We only just found her note.'

'Again, Potter?'said Snape. 'You heard voices in the walls and didn't think to tell anyone responsible?'

Weasley answered for him. 'Bad enough everyone thinking he's the Heir of Slytherin without them deciding he's nutters too.'

'Well,' said Lucius. 'I very much doubt that there is _anything _capable of creeping up on your Potions Professor so I will ask him to bring up the rear. I will go ahead and you two will stay close and stay quiet. And pay attention. Understood?'

They were both nodding so he set off.

The door Potter opened revealed the famed and long sought after Chamber of Secrets and Lucius was congratulating himself on the opulence, scale, taste and detail of his dream's creation when Snape crept past him. With its carved stone, statues and pools of water, it was a pity but the actual Chamber was unlikely to be anything like as magnificent. He turned to the two boys. 'I want you two to remain here and stay out of sight,' he told them. 'Agreed?'

Weasley clearly didn't agree and was opening his mouth to say so when Potter grabbed him. 'Just say yes. There isn't time to ague.' Weasley was shoved into the wall. 'Now.'

'Ok,' muttered the boy, unhappily.

Lucius entered the chamber. At the far end he could see two figures: a red haired girl, curled up on the ground, and an older boy, standing idly over her. Disillusioned and stealthy, he had almost reached the pair, when he heard the approaching scream. 'Giiiiiinnyyy!'

Lucius was obliged to skip smartly aside as Ronald came hurtling by. Sliding to his knees, wand falling carelessly to the ground and bouncing away, the boy cradled his little sister in his arms.

The stranger, immediately bent and retrieved the wand. Smirking, he looked around, then his face fell. 'Where's Potter?' he demanded.

The Weasley boy ignored the question. 'What's wrong with her? Where's the basilisk?'

'It won't come until it's called.'

'What?'

'It won't come until I call it. Honestly,' the older boy considered the wand and then its owner, clearly impressed by neither. 'a sprat to catch a sprat.' He pointed the wand to a spot between its owners eyes which widened suddenly.

'Who are you?' quavered Ronald. 'What do you want?

My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and I want, and I am going, to kill you.'

'I don't understand.'

The stranger let his wand hand drop. 'That is because you are not very bright. Let me explain. Your dear sister found a diary among her textbooks. My diary. Apparently unused. So, poor, lonely little Ginny started writing in it. And the diary wrote back to her.'

'No. She knows better . . ..

'' . . . than to trust anything when you don't know where it keeps its brain?' Apparently not. She's been doing exactly what I want for a while now. Not that she remembered. "Oh Tom, I'm so scared." And the more scared she became, the more time she spent with my diary and the stronger I became. And none of you ever noticed. What a shame. Too busy with Quiddich and pranks and _important things_ to worry that your sweet little sister was going out of her mind. '

'Ginny.' The boy's head bent. Tears sparkled in the girl's red hair. Lucius realised that the diary was gone from its place beside her. _Bloody Snape!_

'Better say goodbye to her, Ronald, said Tom. 'She hasn't too much time left. Of course, neither do you. I, however, have all the time in the world. You should be honoured you know.' The boy raised the wand and wrote 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' in letters of fire in the air. Riddle smiled as, at a gesture, the letters began rearranging themselves.

'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.'

Ron looked up at the older boy. 'Riddle's not a Pure-blood name,' he said as Lucius yelled: 'Destroy the diary! Kill it!'

Riddle rocked back, grimacing, and raised the wand._ 'Avada . _. .,' he began. Lucius felt himself knocked aside, turning back he found his target screened by Potter; Riddle smiled, his stolen wand swung round to steady on the boy sprinting towards him,_ ' . . . Kedavra!_ With a green flash, the wand exploded and Riddle, who had until then appeared quite real, broke up and ceased to be and Harry Potter stopped running and fell.

'Cast nothing.' Snape, visible again, was turning Potter onto his back, fingers searching for something at the boy's throat. Then he placed one hand over the other on Potter's sternum and began a series of rapid compressions of the boy's chest. Blood welled from the child's forehead, masking the famous scar.

Lucius stared, his mind so over full of thoughts attempting to happen as to be almost blank. He watched until Snape rolled Potter, coughing weakly, onto his side. 'CPR. Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation: a Muggle technique to keep the blood oxygenated and moving,' the Potions Master explained, as he stood and turned towards the Weasley children. 'As long as the body remains viable, life can return to it. If its way isn't blocked by foreign magic.' As Ginny began to sob quietly, Severus cast a series of diagnostic charms. 'You are exhausted Miss Weasley. I believe that Madame Pomfrey will want to see you.'

Malfoy instincts kicked in. Lucius began to look around for the diary and found it, in one of the pools, bleeding ink from a hole created by the Goblin forged knife stuck through it: the same knife he had given his potions prodigy protégée on the occasion of his seventeenth birthday. He 'l_eviosa'_d them both onto a dry area and pinning the injured book with his boot, retrieved the knife and pocketed it.

Diagnostic charms revealed a mass of broken spell work and ensured that the diary was no longer the danger it had been it had been as well as, _entirely coincidentally_, hiding any earlier magical traces personally identifiable to Lucius Malfoy. He pocketed the book and went to hand Severus back his knife.

Ginny Weasley drew in a sharp breath.

She was staring at something over Lucius shoulder as was her brother. Tall shadows gave a fairly clear indication of what they were staring at and yet the children were still moving, the boy's arms tightening around his sister as he tried to pull her to her feet. There was hissing but also, to Lucius astonishment, understanding.

_'It's alright, I won't hurt you. I control it. I don't eat rocks, you know.'_

_'It's saying . . .,'_ began Potter, in Parseltongue.

_'She,' _said the Basilisk._ 'I am named Beatrix. Also, you should speak in English.'_

Potter got up and turned to face the reptile. Lucius found himself, through no intent of his own, turning to do the same. As he kept his mouth firmly shut, his chin rose higher and higher.

Potter hissed, focussed for a moment on his friends and, gazing at the floor, tried again. 'What about Myrtle?'

_'Riddle tricked me. He told me I obeyed him because, as Salazar's heir, he'd the right to command me. It felt nice. I didn't know it was "Imperius".' _

Potter glanced at the Weasley boy before realising that seeking clarification from someone who wasn't a Parselmouth was pointless. The boy's hand, dragged over his face and came away bloody. 'A moment Potter..' Snape splashed something onto a clean handkerchief and placed it over the bleeding scar.

'Thanks.' Potter's bloody hand rose to hold the cloth in place.

_'He told me there was an enemy and I believed him and then discovered that I'd killed a child,' _the snake continued miserably. _'I'm here to protect the school, to protect the children. He laughed at me and sent me back to the Chamber. I couldn't get at him and it wasn't as if I could tell anyone. When I got back here, I found I was trapped. Fifty years I've waited, all alone, betrayed and so very hungry, knowing that he would return and hoping I would be the one to kill him. _

_'And then he did return but in the body of an innocent. Not quite all there. And not nearly strong enough to control me. He was careful but I knew that eventually, in arrogance or anger, he'd slip and I would have my chance. Or so I believed.'_

'That's why everyone was only petrified?'

The basilisk laid her great length down upon the floor until her eyes were level with Potter's. _'Even the cat,' _she said. _'Since Riddle blocked off the passage to the forest, fifty years ago, so I couldn't get out, I've been starving. I need to hunt. The tunnel must be repaired.'_ She swung her face towards Lucius. _'Who's he?'_

'She wants to know who you are . . . sir,' said Potter.

'I am Lucius Malfoy and I am Chairman of the Board of Governors.'

_'And that ones a teacher?'_ hissed Beatrix, indicating Severus. Potter nodded. _'Excellent. Crone, Mother and Maiden. Hogwarts will help: a simple _"Reparo,"_ should do it, if you three cast together.'_

Potter blinked, and blinked again.'So you don't want to attack Muggleborns?' he asked.

_'Of course not! You've got it all wrong. You have to remember that, for Muggleborns, life was pretty grim back then but, even when they did understand what was being offered, which usually they didn't, often they didn't want to abandon their parents. _

_'Salazar liked Muggles. Respected them. Would never have agreed to just taking their children away, even if they would have been much better off here. All of the Founders were convinced that they were doing the right thing so it got pretty nasty. I don't know who's idea it was. They agreed that Muggleborns would be given a choice, but Salazar would leave. They all thought he'd be back within the year. _

_'Salazar never came back. No one knows why.'_

'But what about . . ..'

_'Potter, is it?'_

'Harry.'

_'What do you do when there isn't enough of something and you want more than your share?'_

'I don't know.'

_'Think, Harry_.'

'You persuade others that they don't want any?'

_'And Salazar wasn't here,' _said the basilisk, _'so it was easy. They intended it as a sort of prank, I suspect. Years passed. Nobody knows what happened to Salazar but he never did return, and a stupid joke that he hated Muggleborns, became 'the truth'. If any of your friends are Slytherin, you might want to be careful how you tell them.' _

_Nonsense of course,_ thought Lucius, _What a weird dream._ Still his mind was busy processing information. _Harry Potter. Severus Snape. Albus Dumbledore. Tom Riddle. _Dammit!_ Nymphadora Tonks. All extraordinary._

_All Half-bloods._

This required further investigation. A thought broke free of the tangled mass occupying most of Lucius intellectual capacity. _Snape destroyed the Dark Lord's Horcrux._

Then:_ I told him to._

Potter was staring at his own shoes. 'She didn't intend to kill Myrtle,' he explained. 'Riddle tricked her and she's very upset about it. She's been trying to find a way to stop him but didn't want to hurt Ginny. That's why no-one died this time. She hasn't been able to hunt because Riddle blocked off the passage to the forest and she's starving. She wants us to fix the damage. She says _'Reparo,_' should do it, if we cast together because Hogwarts will help.'

The Potions Professor, while looking dubious wasn't saying anything; understandably, given the louring presence of Beatrix.

'She's welcome to those spiders,' said Ron.

'Spiders?' queried Severus, softly.

'Acromantula. In the Forbidden Forest.' Self preservation woke up. 'So I heard.'

'Or, on Hagrid's advice,' suggested Lucius, 'you followed the spiders. Doubtless, he intended well but you are neither half giants, nor yet adults. Those of us responsible for your well being would be obliged if you would remember this. Also, I thought we agreed that you would wait outside.'

'We agreed that you wanted us to wait outside,' said Weasley. Potter turned pink.

Lucius sighed. 'Mr. Weasley, wait here with your sister.' He turned to Harry, Which way?'

Trudging through the gloom after Potter, Lucius murmured: 'You destroyed the Dark Lord's Diary.'

'You told me to,' objected Snape.

'Because you're so bloody obedient! I don't think. Lucius turned, 'Severus, you can't trust Dumbledore.

'I should trust you?

'Right now I'm not sure that I trust me.' Snape looked at him. 'Things have been a bit strange recently.'

Ahead of them, Potter stopped walking. They had reached the blockage. 'Ready?' said Lucius.

_'Reparo!'_ Three spells hit the sloping mass of mud and broken stone which wobbled like an unappealing jelly before shooting upwards with a rumbling and a _whump!_ in a reversed explosion. W_eird how _real _the magic felt._

In the silence, distant daylight shone and water began to drip from the restored ceiling. _'Thank you,' _sighed the snake before taking off in a blur of fast moving leather.

Swaying, still clutching the bloody cloth to his head, Harry Potter smiled a very young child's smile of simple delight and Lucius remembering, belatedly that the boy's heart had been restarted only a few minutes before, reached out to steady him. Potter flinched out of the way.

Anger flared. Hadn't they come down here to rescue the brat? Yet, despite this, as the child staggered off to join his friends, Lucius found himself saying quietly, and to his own surprise: 'Severus. What do you know of Potter's home life?'

'He's Griffindor's golden boy.'

'Indeed. What happened at the end of last year?'

'I'm sorry, Lucius, you'll have to explain.'

'With the philosopher's stone.'

Snape merely gave him a look of aggravated patience.

'So many points for Griffindor,' murmured Lucius. 'And both Weasley and Potter laid up in the hospital wing. And now another adventure this year. Once may be happen-stance . . ..'

'Potter doesn't have the faintest idea how to stay out of trouble.'

'So why not? Why does he so desperately need to play the hero? How is it that he has been, twice in as many years, indulged? Curious, wouldn't you say?'

Severus sneered but went after the boy. More diagnostic charms followed. 'Potter,' said Severus, 'You'll be seeing Madame Pomfrey along with Miss Weasley. On you go.' As the children trooped off he turned to Lucius and waited.

'Malnutrition,' murmured Severus. 'Not all that severe but long standing. It could be that he's a fussy eater. Some injuries, but, for an active child, especially one as lacking in foresight as Potter . . ..'

They followed after the children, the Chamber door closing behind them.

'Not all abuse is physical,' said Lucius and then he shook his head. 'I'm probably imagining it. I've not been sleeping well. Anyway, Professor McGonagall would . . ..' He stopped. He did not mention that she hadn't noticed what was happening to Ginny Weasley. 'Oh, and there's this.' He took Narcissa's letter from his pocket and handed it over.

'Ridiculous,' said Severus, handing it back.

'She got the diary from somewhere. Absurd as such a suggestion may seem, perhaps we should make sure that the Weasleys do not, in fact, have a rat animagus for a pet..'

'Lockhart's gone sir!'

'We can worry about him later,' said Severus.

Lucius drew his wand. After being hit by Snape's stunners there was no way he'd simply wandered off. 'So how do we get back up?'

'You have to ask for steps.'

Lucius turned to the girl. 'You remember?'

'Bits. I thought I was dreaming.'

She'd strangled roosters, Lucius recalled, feeling faintly ill, and written in their blood, including the horrible message he'd seen earlier.

'We need steps,' hissed Potter.

A single step appeared; Lucius put both feet on it and was borne upwards, others forming below and behind it. As the pipe steepened, the stairs shifted sideways and extended further from the tunnel wall before spiralling up the last, vertical section. He arrived at the opening through the sinks and stepped off. The Headmistress was waiting in the bathroom. 'The elves reported . . .,' she began and stopped. 'Is she . . .?'

Lucius smiled at her. 'We were lucky.' The Weasley children stumbled into the bathroom with their arms locked around each other. Shortly after, Potter followed. Once Severus had emerged, the sink rearranged itself, closing off the entrance. 'That suggests that Lockhart is no longer down there,' said Lucius.

'Professor Lockhart? What was he . . ..'

'He was going to abandon Ginny in the Chamber and _obliviate_ us and say that we lost our minds when we saw her body,' interrupted Ronald.

McGonagall stared at him.

Lucius opened the door to the corridor. 'Lockhart will be found and dealt with,' he reassured the children. 'Right now, I am concerned that you, Miss Weasley and you, Mr. Potter be seen by Madame Pomfrey as soon as possible.'

'Yes, of course,' agreed McGonagall. 'On you go, children.'

Lucius let go of the door, fell into step beside the Headmistress and handed her the letter.

'Ridiculous,' said McGonagall..

'Miss Weasley was the victim of a cursed object that she found amongst her things. I'm sure that her parents will be interested in determining just how she came by it. So, if only to rule out such a suggestion . . ..'

'Very well,' said McGonagall. 'Mr. Weasley, you have a pet rat with a toe missing?'

Ronald dropped back. 'Yeah. Scabbers.'

'How long have you had it?'

'Since I started Hogwarts.'

McGonagall gave Lucius a look. 'It's not any special sort of rat is it?' she inquired.

'Naa. He's just a rat. Really quite boring.'

Running footsteps heralded the arrival of three more Weasleys and the group stopped. 'What happened to staying in your common room,' demanded McGonagall. 'Never mind. As you can see, your sister is safe.'

Lucius wasn't letting go. 'Where did you get the rat from, Mr. Weasley?' he asked.

'He used to belong to Percy.'

'So, how long has your family had Scabbers?'

'Dunno. We've always had him.'

'Percy,' said McGonagall. How long has your family had Scabbers?'

'Must be around ten years.' The oldest boy looked slightly embarrassed. 'He's just a rat. He's quite boring.' Snape stiffened almost imperceptibly and McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

'Where did you get him from?'

'I found him in the garden.'

'And your parents let you keep him?'

Mum didn't want to at first so I hid him in Dad's shed. When Dad saw I could take care of Scabbers he must have had a word with her. She changed her mind.'

_Or had her mind changed for her,_ thought Lucius.

'I see,' said McGonagall. Percy, your parents are expected. I'd like you to go down to the gates and meet them. Fred and George, escort your sister and Mr. Potter to the hospital wing and wait there. Tell Madame Pomfrey that I want her to examine both of them. Ronald, where is Scabbers now?'

'In the dorm. Probably sleeping.'

'I'd like to take a look at him. Now, if you don't mind.'

'Of course not.' Ronald sounded puzzled. 'He's just a rat, though.'


	3. Our hero unleashes his inner thespian

Flat on its back, half swallowed by the fluffy pillow, very little could be seen of the rat. A hairless tail draped down over the sheets and four little paws and a nose stuck up from white linen. From this viewpoint, it was almost cute. McGonagall extended her wand.

There was a solid sounding thump as the expanding animagus collided with the top of the bed. Mumbling curses, still glowing slightly, Peter Pettigrew sat up, mutilated hand clutching balding pate.

'Well!' said McGonagall.

Pettigrew looked up at her, looked at all of them and then flung himself forward, reverting as he did so: a rat dropped down behind the hangings and fled under the bed. _I suppose,_ thought Lucius, _he did hit his head rather hard._ In a moment McGonagall had changed into her own animagus form and a silver-tabby cat gave chase.

Lucius had drawn his wand but the_ 'Felix Felices'_ was suggesting, quite forcefully, that he didn't interfere. The rodent, closely pursued, shot from under the bed and out through the door. Severus and Lucius collided and were momentarily jammed together in the doorway, just as the terrified squealing stopped.

Ronald Weasley, who had remained in the stairwell, lunged into the doorway opposite. On the landing at the bottom of the flight of stairs, Professor McGonagall rose to her human hight. Halfway down lay something that resembled an old cushion, awkwardly attached to a recognisable, if rather shrunken, human head. It had a long, worm-like tail and little human feet and was, quite clearly, dead.

An expression of apparent serenity on his face, Severus ghosted down the stairs, conjured a large specimen jar and levitated Pettigrew's mortal remains, head first, into it before turning towards the light, the better to examine his acquisition. Weasley came out of the bathroom, glanced at the jar and ducked back in again.

'Professor Snape, you are _not_ going to carry_ that_ through the Griffindor common room.' McGonagall gestured and the glass jar became a small wooden box. Snape scowled at her and then continued down the stairs quite casually, tucking the box under his arm as he went.

'He . . ..' said Weasley, emerging. 'I . . ..'' He turned back toward the bathroom.

'Madame Pomfrey will have something for that,' said Lucius, surreptitiously casting a cheering charm.

'But . . .'

'Come along.' He propelled Weasley gently towards the stairs and received a shocked look before acquiescence. Indeed, the boy fairly sped away.

Lucius descended. 'I think it would be advisable to have all of the Weasley's things, Potter's too if he was staying with them, brought up to the hospital wing where they can be isolated and gone through thoroughly. Hopefully, we won't find anything like that damned diary.

McGonagall continued to stare at the spot where the animagus had met his end. 'You could not have afforded to let him reach the common room,' Lucius reassured her. 'Given what happened the last time Pettigrew was brought to bay.'

'If Sirius Black didn't kill him . . . '

'What really happened that day? Did Black betray the Potters? I, for one, always found it difficult to believe that he would do such a thing. Not willingly. And now that I come to think about it, do you recall anything at all about a trial? I don't.'

'Impossible!' She had become very, very pale.

'Is it?' Lucius mimed thoughtfulness. 'You may well be unaware of this: the Ministry likes to bury its mistakes. I would ask you . . .. May I suggest that it might be better _not_ to inform them just yet. Not, at least, until measures can be put in place to prevent "accidents".'

The Scotswoman rallied. 'And why, Lucius Malfoy, would you care if he wasn't a Death Eater?'

'I admit that I made a most grievous mistake,' said Lucius. 'It is one, however, that I'm doing my utmost to set right. If you would excuse me?'

'Tippy!' Behind him McGonagal's instructions faded. He caught up with her just outside the hospital doors.

Inside they found assembled Potter, the Weasleys, Snape, still holding onto his box, and Madame Pomfrey who was pouring what looked like a calming draught which she handed to Ronald who swallowed it immediately.

'Professor McGonagall,' began Arthur, 'I'm afraid that Ron isn't making too much sense. What's the problem with Scabbers? We know he's not an owl, a cat or a toad but many children have unusual pets and Scabbers is just a rat. Nothing special. Quite boring if I have to be honest, '

'Professor Snape?' said McGonagall.

Snape laid the box down on a summoned side table and opened it. 'An animagus?' said Arthur. The red haired family had been pale. Now they were all shades of green and none of them really went. Percy dashed away towards the toilets. Mrs. Weasley hugged her little girl.'

'Am I going to be expelled,' whispered Ginny.

'Miss Weasley . . .,' began McGonagall.

'No,' said Lucius. 'No, of course not. You are not to blame. You are a child. This is a school. You should have been safe here. That you were not is something that I shall be taking up with the Board of Governors.'

'Mr. Malfoy . . .,'

Weasley didn't trust him? _Right._ 'Neither can I, in fairness, blame Professor McGonagall although, were she doing her job properly, as Head of House, she should certainly have noticed that something was amiss.

McGonagall stiffened.

'Of course, she couldn't possibly hope to do that as she is, in addition, attempting to perform the duties of Deputy Headmistress which, I am fairly sure, is contrary to our By-laws.

'I have a dispensation.'

'Permanent?'

McGonagall's chin came up.

'So, in addition to teaching 'Transfiguration' which is a full time position, you are also 'Head of House' and 'Deputy Headmistress' which works well because Professor Dumbledore has no other commitments and is always available to assist you.'

'It was you who had Professor Dumbledore removed.'

'Yes it was,' said Lucius. 'I want some-one in the position who won't treat it as a hobby. I do not want anything like this ever to happen again. Our children deserve better.'

Lucius could see that Weasley still wasn't going for it. _Not surprising_. 'One of your children is employed by Gringott's as a Curse Breaker? ' he suggested.

A reluctant nod.

'Good. Because I require an expert assessment of this.' Lucius dropped the diary at the foot of the girl's bed. As one, her family flinched away. 'I really hope that I am wrong about this,' said Lucius, 'but I am very much afraid that I am not. I need names. People who can be trusted to attend to this both quietly and quickly.'

'Bill's in London,' supplied Mrs. Weasley.'

'Is he? Can he come here right away? Hogwarts will cover any applicable fees.'

'It might take an hour or so . . ..'

'Or it might not. Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, will you open the flue to Saint Mungo's?'

'We could,' said Pomfrey dubiously. The dedicated flue was in place to allow emergency transfer of patients either from the school or to it, should evacuation ever become necessary. ' They won't like you just passing through.'

'I'll talk to them. We need to know that that thing's been stopped. Saint Mungo's has people who work with the Aurory. I want them to check on Miss Weasley. That book possessed her, was draining the life out of her and damned near gave us back . . ..'

Lucius drew his wand. In mid air, 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' became 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.'

Ginny gave a small scream and tried to bury herself in her mother's arms. Lucius showed them the name embossed on the diary. When the clamour had died down, he turned to the girl. _Ginevra._ 'I am sorry to say, Miss Weasley, that older, wiser people that you have been taken in by Tom Riddle.'

Scarcely a minute later found Lucius and the Weasley Paterfamilias in London. The door to the reception area swung open. 'Poppy! What's the problem?' Arthur Weasley took one look at the Mediwitch's souring expression and apparated out leaving Lucius to face, if not the music, something possibly even less welcome.

'You're looking well, Andromeda.'

'Malfoy. I do hope you have a good reason for being here.'

'I'm not dying, if that's what you mean.'

Andromeda's wand was pointing between his eyes. He decided to go with the _'Felix Felices.'_

'We found what was causing the petrifications at Hogwarts. Part of the school's defence system was activated by one of the first year Griffies under the influence of a cursed article. One which was also draining her in order to reincorporate its previous owner. I don't think I can tell you any more right now.

The wand hadn't moved.

'Right now,' Lucius continued, 'we have to be sure that the object in question has been neutralised. Mr. Weasley is fetching a curse breaker from Gringott's. As Head of the Board of Governors I'm here to request that the specialist team who assist the Aurory be available to attend the child. In fact, all of the children. The family's pet rat was, in fact, an animagus. Several members of the family show signs of their minds being magically tampered with. "_Confundus" _at the very least. Possibly, "_Imperius".'_Frankly, the whole thing is a mess.'

'And why would Lucius Malfoy be so concerned?'

'Because this should have picked up earlier. I allowed my own problems with Dumbledore to get in the way of my duty of care towards the children of the school. Including my own son.

Andromeda looked at him.

'The animagus was Peter Pettigrew.'

'Could you repeat that?'

'The animagus was Peter Pettigrew. Far more likely that he'd be the one working for You-Know-Who than your cousin Sirius.'

'To whom did the cursed object previously belong, Lucius.?'

Lucius swallowed before realising that she had no reason to suspect and the answer was "the Dark Lord" not "Lucius Malfoy". Even so, Andromeda Tonks, nee Black was paling in a manner he could distinctly remember and he found himself shuffling sideways just as light flared green from behind him and the person exiting the Ministry flue sent him sprawling.

'Whoops! Sorry.' His assailant had Auror Trainee robes, a quite lovely, heart-shaped face, pink hair and the ears of a donkey. '

_Nymphadora Tonks. _For a moment out of time, Lucius saw her, lying, very still, on the floor of Hogwarts' great hall. '_How do we tell Andromeda?'_

He felt woozy, sick and weary to his very bones, '_No. She's alive. She will stay alive.' _ 'Andromeda,' he began, still on his knees. _If you apologise, _he told himself, _she'll not believe a word you have to say._

Ignoring him, Andromeda turned to her daughter. 'What is it this time?' She asked tiredly.

Nymphadora tugged at one of the ears. 'Potion. A "prank". I can't shift them. And, as usual, the Ministry people won't touch it.'

'Right.' Andromeda turned to address Lucius. 'Am I to believe that you have turned against your so-called Dark Lord?'

'Yes.' He started to get up.

'Will you swear to that?'

Lucius got to his feet slowly. 'Yes?'

While the form of the oath was being agreed, the crack of apparition announced the Weasleys' return from Gringotts, accompanied by a pair of mail and leather clad goblins.. 'Bill,' said Andromeda, you and your colleagues should go on through. Arthur, I'd like you to act as binder for an unbreakable oath.

'Oh?'

By the time Lucius had sworn that he renounced Tom Riddle (also known as You-Know-Who), and all his works; bore no malice or intent of harm towards Andromeda or her family and finally that he was, in fact who he claimed to be, the Weasley was looking almost cheerful.

'Arthur,' Andromeda said , 'if you're agreeable, I'll ask the team to attend your family unofficially. I think the fewer who know about this, the better.'

'Team?' Light dawned. 'Oh. Thank you, that's thoughtful Thank you. Now I think I'd better . . ..'

'Say hello to Molly for me.'

A twisted smile and Weasley departed.

'So, supper one evening,' Lucius suggested.

'Absolutely,' replied Andromeda. 'There's this really nice little curry house. You can be our guests.'

'Muggle?'

'Of course.'

_'Actually',_ announced the voice in his head, '_I could murder a curry.' _With a somewhat fixed smile, Lucius took his leave.

Back at Hogwarts, despite the empty glasses indicating that they had all been dosed with calming draught, Molly Weasley was upset. Extremely loudly.

'I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I AM UP TO NO GOOD?'

While most of the family looked as though they were caught out in a storm, the twins were cowering. The goblins watched, fascinated.

'Would someone care to explain?' suggested Lucius.

'That would be the password for a magical object,' said Severus, in far too bland a tone. 'To whit: a map. Of Hogwarts. Showing the names and locations of everyone in it. Created apparently, by Messrs Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and . . . Wormtail.'

Molly drew a deep breath.

'If I may?' Severus continued, more loudly. 'A wizard, who has been pretending to be dead, has had the run of your home whilst you were asleep. Various among you have, independently, volunteered the information that Scabbers was "just a rat" and "boring". This suggests to me that there has been . . . how best shall I put it? . . . _interference_. And this has been going on for more than ten years.

'We should, perhaps, continue our search?'

Ron's trunk revealed worn and greying clothes but nothing exceptional. 'My wand . . .' began the youngest Weasley boy.

'I'll try to see that it's returned to you,' said Lucius.

'It's wrecked.'

'It won't function. It is still the wand that took down a Dark Lord.'

The boy looked surprised and then his shoulders went back. 'I'd forgotten about that.'

'I'd be happy to make you an offer for it.'

'Think I might keep it, thank you.'

Lucius envied the resilience of the young. 'You won't be able to talk about what happened. The . . . creature is a part of Hogwarts' defences. One that would be compromised by common knowledge.'

Ron deflated slightly. 'Even so.'

'Think about it.' They moved on to Potters trunk. Lucius eyed the contents as each item in it was removed and checked by an increasingly puzzled looking team of Curse Breakers 'Well?'

'Some items are affected more than others,' Bill said, 'but everything's been in contact with _something_. It's not here now and we've no idea what it might have been. Harry are you missing anything?

'Don't think so.' Lifting his fringe to reveal unblemished skin, he grinned at Snape. 'Except the scar. Dittany. Wish I'd asked before.'

'If I might have a word, Mr. Weasley?' Most of the humans in the room turned to face Lucius

''I would say "Call me Bill." If you weren't Lucius Malfoy.'

'A word.'

Wooden faced, Bill followed him down the ward and waited while Lucius cast _'Muffliato'._ 'What can you tell me regarding the diary?'

'An extremely dark magical relic.'

'You know what it was?'

'We believe so.'

'Relic? In the strict sense of the word?' Bill nodded carefully. 'Could young Potter have been employed in a similar way? I refer to his scar.'

'What?' Weasley looked towards the Boy- Who- Lived, then his expression hardened. 'Perhaps you should explain.'

'Down in the Chamber the shade of Tom Riddle attempted to 'Avada Kedavra' him. The wand exploded but Potters heart stopped and, rather curiously, the wound reopened. Professor Snape used a Muggle technique to to keep his blood moving mechanically until, eventually, he revived.'

The Curse Breaker was looking at Potter and his expression was leaning towards one of dismay, if not disgust. Lucius discovered that he was furious.

'Professor Snape described it as a way of keeping the body habitable until life could return to it. If not blocked by foreign magic. Muggles, non-magical human beings, invented the technique and use it sufficiently often for it to possess an acronym. C. P. R.. Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation. It's not dark. It's not even magical. That _child _went into the Chamber believing that there was a _monster _there to rescue _your_ sister. Don't you even begin to think . . . .'

'I get it,' said Bill. 'I do. Yes.' He took a deep breath. 'That could explain the disposition of readings but given the strength of the diary, I would expect to pick up more from Potter himself.'

'There were other . . . objects. I think one of them may be located in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringotts.'

The Curse Breaker froze. 'You knew?'

'No, I did not know,' spat Lucius. 'I heard something but who, in their right minds would believe such a thing? Who'd believe any one could be so entirely bloody stupid?'

'Right, said Bill. 'You're right. Dammit. How many?'

'Six plus one remaining: presumably destroyed.'

'So, if you're right, three down of six. _Rockfall._ Seven. Dammit. I suppose that would be why the rat waited for my little sister: the seventh child.'

_Gobblydook as well as Parseltongue? _Lucius asked himself_. 'Counting to ten and some profanity'_ said the voice in his head. He broke the _'Muffliato'_ and turned to where the Boy-Who-Lived was feeling defensive about his underwear.

'Wait,' muttered Bill. 'You saved Ginny. You and Professor Snape.'

'He is a teacher and I am Chairman of the Board of Governors. I cannot help but feel that we . . . should have done better. Saint Mungo's will be contacting you regarding any lingering effects. Their specialists usually deal with the Aurory but given the circumstances . . .. Do not allow pride to get in the way of proper treatment. It's something that's owed. I expect this to be done unofficially. If not, the cost is for the school. Should information get out, your family will not suffer blame alone.'

As Lucius reached the others, Bill had one more thing to say: 'All this because you discovered that Tom Riddle wasn't a pureblood?'

Lucius grimaced. 'No.' They were all staring_. "Show time!" s_aid the voice in his head.

'My father, Abraxus, undoubtedly knew about Riddle. But then he died. Quite young. And so very_ conveniently_. For the Dark Arse.

'On the day of his funeral, that _filth _sat in my father's place at table and explained a neat little trick he had with _"Imperius"_. Did you know that the curse can be applied a bit at a time so that with a judicious amount of _obliviation_, behaviour, even thinking can be twisted gradually? The mind is quite terrifyingly adept at justifying past actions. Little by little, the victim can be warped into the desired shape. Tom Riddle's bloody topiary is what we were. No one did a damned thing to stop him.

'Not Dumbledore. Certainly not Slytherin's Head of House.

'For the rich and well connected, recommendations to comfortable, well paying positions. For the poor and clever the opportunity to work themselves into the ground and have that work stolen. Did you think Belby invented the _"Wolfsbane" _potion? He didn't. He wasn't even in Europe at the time.

'All this in a House noted for its ambition and flexibility with regard to the rules. What did Slughorn imagine would happen?' I wish that I could say that I didn't take advantage of the situation. I can't.

Still, we were used. And I _will_ have revenge. I don't know how I should feel about . . . children who are "Muggleborn" . . . and others_, _but I do know that I will do whatever I have to to protect and preserve my family . . . the _rest _of my family.'

The Weasleys were wide-eyed. The goblins looked as though they might applaud 'Enough,' said Lucius, running his hand up his forehead and over his hair. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. 'Are such garments . . . _fashionable_ in the Muggle world, Mr. Potter?'

'No.'

'So, then. Are your guardian's very badly off?'

Potter's head went down. His arms wrapped around himself. 'No,'

'Then, please, explain.'

'My relatives don't like magic, Mr. Malfoy.'

'I see,' said Lucius. 'How do they like you?'

'Not much,' muttered Potter at the same time as one of the twins interjected: 'They put bars on his window!'

'They were starving him!' added the other.

McGonagall's hand had gone to her mouth. Lucius exchanged glances with Snape.

'Relatives?' enquired Severus. 'Petunia?'

'You know my Aunt Petunia?'

'I did. An unpleasant person.'

'She's not changed much.'

Bill Weasley pulled something out of the trunk with which Lucius would not have permitted an elf to wash down the dungeon.

'Mr. Potter,' said Lucius. 'At your Aunt's house, who does the cleaning?'

'I do.'

'Cooking? Gardening?'

'Me. I do it all, right?'

'Mr. Potter . . .,' began McGonagall.

'You knew,' said Potter. 'How could you not have known. My Hogwarts Letter was sent to "the Cupboard Under the Stairs"!'

'I think I might have noticed that,' said McGonagal, 'when we'd to send you so many . . . '

'They moved me into Dudley's second bedroom after the first one arrived.'

In the silence that followed, Lucius removed a small notepad from his pocket. 'Where does your aunt live, Mr. Potter?'

In Little Whinging in Surrey. The address is . . .'

'Say no more, Harry.' Dumbledore had arrived and his eyes weren't twinkling at all.

'Number four . . .,' began Harry before stopping, looking first panicked, then betrayed, at his sudden inability to speak.

'Mr. Malfoy, you are no longer a Governor of this school. You should leave.' Lucius opened his mouth. 'I said leave.'

The Elder Wand was in the Headmaster's hand. Lucius took the flue. _Elder Wand?_ he demanded of himself as he spun towards Saint Mungo's. _That really takes the biscuit. Next there will be white rabbits._ He wasn't going to swallow a damned thing Narcissa gave him from now on.

'Lucius,' said Andromeda. 'There was no trial.' Lucius flinched, but still it continued. Why had he not taken dreamless sleep? ''There can be no doubt at all that it _was_ Peter Pettigrew?'

'No. McGonagall recognised him. So. I think, did Snape. We've the body, mid-change. The head is human, if a bit shrunken. The evidence is fairly conclusive.'

'It's a just a pity she killed him. It would have been helpful . . . '

' . . . if we could have questioned him? The rat's behaviour with regard to the Weasleys was pretty damning. I don't imagine he was registered as an animagus?'

'He wasn't.'

'Your source is reliable?'

'Since the Ministry handed my daughter's treatment to Saint Mungo's, I took her off active duty. She's been pursuing her studies in Records. Sirius was arrested and detained. And that was it. There never was any investigation, all the witnesses were _obliviated. _No reason to believe he's anything other than innocent and definitely no trial.

Lucius winced. 'And neither will there be one . . .' he said.

' . . . unless we are very clever.'

There was silence.

'I missed you,' said Andromeda.

'And I you. That your child has proven to be so exceptional has been, strangely enough, an odd sort of comfort.' He sighed. 'I've been a bloody fool.'

'Yes, Lucius, you have. What are we going to do about Sirius?'

'Suppose,' said Lucius, 'you were to attempt to buy the Black property in London for, let's say, seventy Galleons.'

'Sounds more like something you would do.'

'True. So, having gotten wind of it . . . .'

'Naturally,' said Andromeda, 'I would try to have Sirius transferred to Saint Mungo's for psychiatric evaluation. Can't have my rotten brother in law thieving the inheritance.'

'Fudge is so used to taking the credit for other people's ideas, he no longer remembers they weren't his in the first place. Although having paid a pittance for the the house, I'd not put it beyond him to confiscate the money. He's likely to facilitate a requested transfer to London. He won't want to visit Azkaban.'

'Yes,' said Andromeda. 'But how do we ensure that Sirius gets to Saint Mungo's? I'm not sure how much I can do if he's stuck in the Ministry.'

'He needs to be awake to sign a contract. Perhaps some sort of contact potion . . .'

'Or,' said Alastair Moody, removing his invisibility cloak, 'we could just send some reliable people in to get him. Nymphadora should learn that, when doing something you don't want to get caught at, the trick is to look bored. Not shifty.

'Oh and by "_reliable",_ I don't mean you.' Red light spun toward Lucius and there wasn't time.


	4. In which our hero is a bit tied up

Lucius awoke.

Merlin, what a nightmare. Trying to make nice with the Weasleys? He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 'Tea.' A silver salver appeared on a stand beside the bed with on it, a steaming pot of tea, a small jug of milk and a mug.

_A mug?_ thought Lucius. But, of course, Narcissa didn't like the Black Keep and didn't care what was in it. More to the point: what was he doing here?

'Dobby.' The elf appeared. 'What am I doing here.'

The elf's face blanked for a moment as it consulted whatever arcane magics elves used to keep track of people. 'Mistress Andromeda brought you?'

'W_e_ own this place. Not her.'

'Mistress Andromeda was born a Black.'

_And therefore the notoriously tricky Black Keep wards let her in. _

'Does Narcissa know I'm here?'

'Dobby thinks not.'

'Please tell her that I am here and will be returning shortly.' Dobby vanished.

_Please?_ thought Lucius, scandalised._ For a house elf? _

Still drinking his tea, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. 'Lucius? demanded Narcissa, as she threw open the bedroom door. 'What on Earth is going on? Three different spells hit him in rapid succession. Are you alright?

Lucius _didn't _spill his tea. He wondered how long he'd been out of it. Madeye had never been one to pull his cursess 'What's been happening?'

That's what I want to know. Why have we been assigned Aurors "for our own protection"? What have you been doing?'

'Not me!' objected Lucius, getting up and heading for the door. 'Severus was the one performing all the heroics.''

'This is about that cleansing draught, isn't it? Narcissa followed him out of the bedroom. 'What were you doing _here_?'

'Andromeda brought me.'

'Ah.'

'You've been meeting with her here behind my back.'

'I have not.' Narcissa met his gaze for a moment then, pink suffusing her cheeks, turned away. 'A couple of times. She's my sister. I needed to know that she'd somewhere safe to go.'

_Oh nicely done_, thought Lucius. However many years of marriage and she was still trying to wrap him around her little finger. 'At least you had some use of the place.'

His wife's expression darkened.

Lucius took a deep breath. 'When I bought this place for you as a wedding present, when dear, sweet, old Cassiopeia sold it to me, I didn't realise that "entirely habitable if not quite the style" meant that your great grandfather Cygnus had had it reconstructed for the benefit of his Muggle mistress and her theatrical friends. Auntie had hidden all the Muggle stuff. I just thought it a bit unconventional.

Narcissa's jaw clenched.

'I'm sorry. I thought you would find it amusing.' Lucius glanced at the pale opulence surrounding them. This floor held a library, a dining room and various bedrooms, all giving onto a very large lounge with a wall of south facing glass doors leading out onto a viewing platform that stretched right around the outside of the structure.

Marble stairs and glass and steel lifts accessed the roof top solarium with its tropical gardens and the glass bottomed swimming pool that passed light through to the lounge. Below were more bedrooms, a gymnasium, a games room and a theatre/cinema all supplied with electricity from a trio of massive, magically driven generators hidden in the dungeon. Lucius had no idea how the Muggle stuff had worked but, while he could do without the theatre and games room, he'd rather liked the upper levels. Narcissa, unfortunately, thought it all too vulgar for words.

Not that she didn't have a point.

Bellatrix, with her usual tact, had called it "a mad man's muggle-loving love shack" and giggled, before going skinny dipping with Rabastan and Rudolphus in the pool.

"_Skinny dipping?"_

He wondered when he might have come across such a distasteful expression and, out it slid, from behind his occlumantic barriers, like some eldrich abomination requiring only a thought to manifest itself. As quickly as possible, Lucius stuffed that particular image (as viewed from below) back into one of the deeper holes in his subconscious. At least Bellatrix infatuation with Dark Lord had put an end to all that.

Narcissa lost the argument with herself. 'It would be different if you'd allow me to remodel. It's not as if we couldn't afford . . ..' She trailed off. 'Why has William Weasley been fire calling you concerning "Gringotts' Business"?'

'Was he?'

But Narcissa wasn't listening. She was instead heading towards the enormous, carved marble fireplace opposite the windows. 'Malfoy Manor!' The fire flared green and she was gone. Grimacing, Lucius followed.

He found Narcissa in his study gong through the books. It didn't take her long to reach a conclusion. 'We're broke. In fact,' she checked back to the beginning of the book, 'we're broke.'

'Yes,' Lucius heard himself saying from a distance. 'I'm sorry. Why is Gandolf Goyle out cold on the floor?'

'Because McNair drank first. He's in the pale green guest room. Any idea what Weasley wants?'

'I suppose I could find out.'

In an otherwise empty room, William Weasley was struggling with chalk, several pieces of parchment and something apparently constructed of string and shaped, wooden blocks, all of which were attempting to escape. 'Mr. Weasley?'

'Mr Malfoy. Would you like to come through? Or would you prefer . . . ?' A tea service slid past like a row of ducks.

'If you wouldn't mind coming to the Manor?'

Lucius withdrew and, moments later was joined by the young Curse Breaker. 'This way.' Lucius led him into the large reception room opposite. 'Hello again, Mr. Weasley,' said Narcissa.

'Ah, Hello.' Weasley looked uncomfortable.

'Just say it,' advised Lucius.

'Right. Well. On checking Madame Lestrange's vault, Gringotts discovered that she was in breach of contract regarding the contents. A fine has been levied, part of which accrues to you for information received.' An envelope was thrust into Lucius hands. 'You might want to get that transferred to your own vault as quickly as possible.'

Lucius froze, feeling as though his spine were boiling, entirely horrified. _Gringotts' employee or not, there was no way he should have found out . . .._ 'Why are you telling me this?' he asked,

Weasley grinned. 'Because my family owes you and because banking is Gringotts' _other_ business.'

So the Cursebreaker didn't mind scuppering their schemes._ Unexpected._ Lucius opened the envelope, glanced over the enclosed missive and and noted the numbers near the bottom of of the page. 'No you don't,' he found himself saying automatically. 'Your sister would never have been endangered if Hogwarts were . . . .' He blinked and checked the numbers again.

'One tenth the value of the vault's contents.'

'I see. And the item?'

'Confiscated.' Weasley grinned. 'Three down. Would you happen to have any ideas regarding the others?'

Lucius considered. 'The curse on the Dark Arts position would suggest that there is something in the school.'

'That was my own thought. Incidentally, Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you.'

'Indeed.' Lucius handed the parchment to his wife Thank you, Mr. Weasley. '

'My pleasure. Since you probably want to attend to that immediately, you'll excuse me?' A courteous bow and he was gone.

Narcissa's eyebrows rose as she read. 'We're not broke. Now that is a Weasley I could like. I'll deal with it, shall I?'

'Please.'

Narcissa came back before reaching the flue. '_Money_ is why I couldn't remodel the Keep?'

'Yes. The Dark Lord took . . ..'

'Lets not speak of him.' Pulling his head down, she kissed his brow.

'We have to.'

'Then you should attend to our guests. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

. . . . .

'Your wife.' said Gandolf Goyle, 'tried to poison me.'

'Actually, I believe it was a cleansing draught.'

Gandolf looked at him. 'I warned you about that woman. Not that the whole family isn't a bit high strung.'

Lucius shrugged. 'Can_ I _offer you a drink?

'No. What's going on Lucius?'

Without mentioning the basilisk or the word horcrux, he explained.

'Topiary!' muttered Gandolph, finally. 'Bloody . . .. I think I might take you up on that drink now.'

'Brandy?'

'Firewhisky. A large one. So. Now you're siding with Dumbledore?'

Lucius proffered the half full glass. 'If he is wise, Dumbledore will side with me.'

The drink was downed in one. 'What about McNair?

Lucius couldn't quite repress a shudder. 'I think he might have to remain our guest for a while yet.'

'Ha! She fed _you_ some.'

'She did.'

'Think I'll go before she gets back. You take care of yourself, Lucius.'

As the green fire of Goyle's departure died away, Narcissa emerged from the shadows. 'All done. I had the feeling that the goblins were a little disappointed,' she said.

'Excellent.'

'I think,' said Narcissa, 'that you and I should have a little chat.'

He told her everything. When he had finished, his wife appeared thoughtful. 'There were rumours about Seer blood in the Malfoy line.'

'Not since Marie-Suzanne de Malfoy. And she wasn't in the direct line.'

'There was, of course, your grandfather's infamous luck at cards.'

_Source of the recent Malfoy fortune,_ thought Lucius. 'I don't think that had anything to do with Divination,' he said

'It would seem,' she mused 'that we have quite the opportunity. 'Although . . .. It might better if you were to remain here for now. I'll see if I can't find Andromeda. Find out what's happening.'

'Promise to be careful.'

Her smile was like sunshine. 'Of course.'

A bath and a meal had Lucius feeling considerably better than he had for a while. That and the fact that he was almost as well off as he'd been when he'd first inherited, before Riddle had properly got his hook in.

If he'd received one tenth, then it was surprising how much Bellatrix had actually had in her vault. Lucius sat up sharply. _Voldemort's money._ No chance then of _him_ not noticing his loss. _He _would want access in fairly short order should he manage to reincarnate himself. Lucius was just settling down to plot when he was interrupted by Dobby.

'Master?'

'Yes?'

'Aurors is wanting to talk to Master.'

'Show them in.

There were four of them, wand in hand, clearly hoping that Lucius would start something. 'Gentlemen, what can I do for you?'

'If you'll come with us, sir: the Minister would like a word.'

He gave them a pleasant smile 'Would you happen to know what this is about?'

'Couldn't say sir.'

This time he didn't have to wait to be admitted. 'Lucius.' Fudge got up to shake his hand and pull back the chair for him. 'Good to see you again.'

'How can I be of help to you Minister?'

Fudge sat down. 'Well, the thing is, there's some damn nonsense about Sirius Black being innocent.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Or at least, that he never received a proper trial.'

'I see.' Lucius sat down. 'But wouldn't that be the responsibility of the previous administration?' he suggested.

'You're forgetting that I was part of that administration.'

'Hardly something that needs to be mentioned. Bagnold's foul up. You're just putting things right. Schedule a trial, and in the meantime, stick him in Saint Mungo's/'

The Minster scowled.''Unfortunately Black has got it into his head that I was personally responsible. Raving about me having him locked up so I could steal his property. Quite mad, of course.'

_So Fudge had decided to indulge in a little extortion, had he? And found Black not nearly as far gone as expected._ 'If he's insane, surely the place for him is in hospital?'

'The place for Black is Azkaban.'

'I fail to see what it is you think that I can do.'

'Really, Lucius? How about a statement from you regarding Black's sympathies?'

Now, the fool was pushing parchment and a quill towards him across the desk. _Clutching at straws. _Lucius sighed. 'To the best of my knowledge, Sirius Black never supported You-Know-Who. Quite the reverse as I recall.'

The feather crumpled in the Minister's fist. 'Should we be obliged to reopen the judicial process for Black, there is no telling where it might go.'

Lucius stood up. 'My best advice would be to have Black transferred to Saint Mungo's.' As he stepped out of the Minister's office, he found himself again surrounded.

'Sorry Lucius, but I feel that the best place for you right now is in protective custody,' said Fudge from behind him. 'Take his wand.' Lucius had no choice but to let it go. Fudge awarded him a particularly oily smile. 'Just until we can get this matter cleared up of course.'

In the corridor that led to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's holding cells, the Aurors stopped. The wizard who had taken Lucius' wand tossed it back at him and he too smiled. 'Give it your best shot.'

'I don't understand.'

'He _doesn't _understand!'

_Talk fast._ 'Sirius Black was one of yours. He never had a trial. That's an embarrassment to the Minister. Especially as he's innocent.'

_'Crucio!'_

When the pain had receded sufficiently Lucius found himself on the floor. 'You didn't really think anyone bought that shit about _"Imperius" _did you, Malfoy?'

'Black was an Auror. One of your own.' But the man was no longer paying attention. He'd turned to face behind him, listening intently. The red spell caught him anyway just before another stunner hit Lucius.

. . . . .

He became conscious of a foul odour, then that he was lying on something hard and lumpy from which he was unable to rise. Lucius opened his eyes. He was in a holding cell at the Ministry. The door was open but that didn't help because he was quite firmly stuck to the bunk. Someone had also gone to the trouble of making him invisible and inaudible.

He was not without company though. In the cell opposite a filthy wreck of a man was snoring peacefully. _Sirius Black. _Footsteps brought a single Auror into view. Not one of those who had attacked him. The guard watched Black for a few moments before retreating, showing no awareness of Lucius' presence. _Interesting,_ thought Lucius. It looked as though he had, again, been stashed out of the way.

Sirius continued to snore. Lucius began to itch. He was starting to suspect that perhaps he wasn't quite as alone on the bunk as he might have liked. He could move a little within his clothes but they were attached to the mattress and the mattress was stuck to the bunk. If he'd been dressed the way Black was, getting free wouldn't have been a problem, but all of Lucius' things were of the finest quality.

He wriggled.

Cursing silently, he wriggled some more.

Finally, hearing the cell block door open, he stopped and listened. 'I need to check your wand,' a female voice was saying. 'It won't take a moment.'

_Wizards are idiots, _thought Lucius.

Sure enough, a moment later came: _'Imperio!' _He couldn't make out her orders but he heard the block door open again and close. A woman in pink came and, without fuss, opened the cell door opposite. 'Goodbye Mr. Black,' she said, and left.

_Umbridge, _He had a very bad feeling about this even before the temperature began to drop. In his cell, Sirius Black awoke, turned into a dog and scurried under the bunk. Moments later, the Dementor hove into view. The victim for whom it was intended being absent as far as it was concerned, that just left Lucius.

Twisting and contorting, he tried desperately to escape and failed, nose and fingers tingling as the cold intensified. Bony hands pressing down upon Lucius' shoulders, the foul thing bent over him and he wished that he still felt as though he were dreaming. Helplessly, he closed his eyes.

A loud clanging, and the icy pressure on his shoulders had gone. He discovered the Dementor wrestling with what he first took for a silvery, floor length beard. He found that he could sit up and and watched as the dark creature staggered backwards, bouncing off walls and doors, trying and failing to get a grip of something that twisted around and started shredding its hands with four rapidly paddling paws. _ A Patronus?: _an aggressively corporeal one. As the Dementor collapsed across the bunk opposite, the dog scuttled, nails scraping franticly, from underneath and through the doors into Lucius cell to take refuge beneath him.

Shivering, Lucius took his time getting to his feet as the Dementor continued hairily to flap and flail, finally succeeding in prying its assailant away from its throat and throwing it off. The Patronus, a large fox, skipped brightly against the wall, shaking its head, dark material falling away from its grinning jaws, and sprang back to the attack. As it did its best to excavate the Dementor's innards, Lucius found his wand where he'd been lying. He bent down. Black fur eyed him warily from the shadow under the bunk.

'Hello Sirius. Or should that be "Padfoot".' Lucius sank down beside the dog. 'In case they haven't told you yet, we found a rat. Pettigrew's dead.' A particularly loud clanging caused the eyes to switch their attention to the struggle going on outside the cell. 'Black,' he tried again, we found Pettigrew.'

The dog became a man. 'Peter's dead?' he whispered.

'He was hiding out as the Weasley children's pet. At Hogwarts. Actually sharing a room with Harry Potter. Turned into a rat and tried to run. Forgot about McGonagall.'

'She caught him ?'

'Terminally.'

Sirius coughed and then couldn't stop coughing. Lucius conjured a glass and gave him water. Coughing turned into crying. 'We're going to get you out of here,' said Lucius, gripping the animagus' shoulder. 'You need to hold it together for just a bit longer.'

'We?' wheezed Sirius. 'Who's we?'

'Andromeda. That mad bastard . . . ' _Speak of the devil._

'Malfoy. Can't you stay put for five bloody minutes?' demanded Moody stumping in ahead of a trio of Healers and Kingsly Shacklebolt. Tail still thumping, the silver fox faded. What was left of the Dementor fled.

Moody looked at Lucius askance.

'That toad Umbridge tried to set it on Black.'

'And the Patronus?'

No idea. I opened my eyes and there it was.'

'There's no one else here, Malfoy.'

'Want to tell you what happened.' Black's voice came hoarsely from under the bunk. 'The rat . . . Pettigrew, the rat . . . he did it. He told him. Never betray James. Not me. Never.'

'What about the explosion that killed all those Muggles?' enquired Shacklebolt.

'Peter. Must've got a gas line. Peter did it.'

From down on their knees, the healers had been running tests. 'Try "_Veritaserum"_ right now and you'll kill him,' said one. 'Mr. Black, we're taking you to Saint Mungo's. You'll have a guard but they'll be there to protect _you._ Do you understand?'

When Black had been lured out, stretchered and borne away still muttering his innocence, Lucius found himself alone with the small, evil grin on the battered countenance of Alastair Moody. 'Had a falling out with Fudge, Malfoy?'

''He's been bleeding me for years. I refused to give him any more. When I wouldn't let him coerce me into falsely incriminating Black he must have decided that I'd be of more use to him dead.'

'Bleeding you?'

'Let me tell you about it.'

. . . . .

Lucius faced the hastily convened Wizenganot. Fudge leant forward. 'Mr. Malfoy, we'd like you to confirm that Sirius Black was a willing servant of You-Know-Who.'

'Objection,' said Amelia Bones.

'To my knowledge, Sirius Black never supported You-Know-Who. Quite the reverse, in fact,' volunteered Lucius.

'I believe that it would be useful to determine if Mr. Malfoy is able to repeat that under _'Veritaserum,' _Umbridge suggested sweetly.

'Agreed,' said Bones.

Fudge looked furious and then glum.

Lucius decided that his best option would be to divert attention from himself. As quickly as possible.

'To my knowledge, Sirius Black never supported You-Know-Who. Quite the reverse, ' he repeated once the potion had taken effect.

Umbridge leant forward. 'You claim that your support of You-Know-Who was achieved through the use of _"Imperius"._ Is that true?'

'Yes,' said Lucius. 'You-Know-Who used _"Imperius"_ in order to gain control of myself and my resources and I don't know how many others.' He waited until the noise died down. 'You, Madam Umbridge, set a Dementor on Sirius Black in an attempt to avoid embarrassment to Minister Fudge, Imperiusing an Aurur to gain access.'

That is a lie!'

'I believe that it would be useful to determine if Madam Umbridge is able to repeat that under _'Veritaserum,' _said Lucius. 'I also offer an unbreakable vow to tell the truth in this matter.'

A moment of silence preceded uproar.

. . . . .

It was an extremely pleasant evening for a stroll through the grounds of Hogwarts, he decided. Dumbledore had asked to speak with him and Lucius was happy to oblige. Of course it might take the old wizard a while to extricate himself from the near riot that Lucius had provoked at the Wizengamot.

Self congratulation aside, it was time for a chat with his son. He loved Draco dearly but, right now, he had a charm offensive to mount and the boy could not be allowed to threaten it. He awoke to find his wrists secured to a bench in the Ravenclaw Quiddich Team Changing Room.

'Hello,' said Lockhart.

Lucius considered 'Witch Weekly's' 'Most Charming Smile'. While he thought the black was probably an improvement on the pastels, Lucius personally would not have recommended padded silk satin and chamoise.

'The cuffs you are wearing will punish you for lying and any attempt to escape,' said Lockhart.

_Best encourage a few explanations then._ 'How did you get the drop on me?' he asked, concentrating on feeling the net of spells that ran between the cuffs looking for a weak point.

The smirk became more evident. 'I'm afraid that I can't be giving away all my secrets, Mr. Malfoy. You don't mind if I call you Lucius?''

'You mean you don't intend to obliviate me?'

Lockhart huffed and sat down on the bench opposite. Lucius ignored him. Tess,' said Lockhart, conversationally. An elf appeared beside him. 'Mr. Malfoy is being difficult.' Tess glanced sideways at Lucius. She was neatly dressed in a starched, black, maid's outfit complete with white apron and was carrying a feather duster. 'Be so good as to demonstrate.'

Looking miserable, Tess did as she was told. Where the feathers brushed his arm it felt like "_cruciatus"_. Automatically, Lucius tried to curl up and the cuffs added their own quota of pain. 'Enough!' He struggled to regain his breath.

'Just wait for now,' Lockhart told the elf. 'Who stunned me?'

'Snape. Where did you get the cuffs?' Having had a few moments to examine the magic, Lucius thought he could break them.

'A gift from an admirer. A terribly plain woman, but useful. Now suppose you tell me what happened after I was stunned.'

'We found the missing child.'

'Well, of course you did. Stop delaying. Tess gets dreadfully upset when she has to hurt people.'

Lucius talked and kept on talking, trying not to say too much while he worked on the cuffs.

'So there wasn't actually a monster?' Lockhart sounded disappointed.

_Beatrix is no monster. _'Apart from yourself, no.'

'Tess.' Even bracing himself, Lucius couldn't avoid the additional pain from the cuffs. 'What happened next?

Lucius explained about Pettigrew. '

Unfortunate, but just too many people,' mused Lockhart. 'Right. 'I think that you will remember that it was I who led you into the chamber and I who killed the book while you panicked. You're ashamed of that and don't like to think about it. While you and Snape escaped with the children, I remained in the chamber to hunt for the monster. Lots of people have seen Griffindor tower. The Chamber of Secrets will take me to a whole new level. I'm sure that Harry won't mind opening it again for his rescuer.'

Lockhart had raised his wand and Lucius was desperately attacking the cuffs when his vision was blocked by something shiny that descended and struck his knees before falling to roll, ringing on the ground. He looked down to discover that it was a large silver salver. Lockhart slumped, face down, onto the floor. _Reflected obliviation, _thought Lucius. The salver had to have been . . .'Dobby!' but, for once, the elf failed to appear. On the other hand, there was no sign of Tess. Again he set to, trying to unlock the cuffs.

He'd blocked the punishment element and thought he'd found a way of opening them when Lockhart picked himself up off the floor, rubbing at his face. 'What happened?'

''Quick! Release me before Snape gets back.'

'Snape?'

'He's fed you a potion that's damaging your memory. If you don't get the antidote soon you'll forget everything you ever knew.'

'Why would he . . . ?'

''He hates you. He's jealous. He was going through your things when you challenged him. Quickly now!'

'Tess!' said Lockhart. When the elf didn't arrive, Lockhart hastened to release Lucius who wasted no time in stunning and cuffing him. Then he destroyed the duster. There was a slow hand clap from the door.

'He hates you,' said Snape. 'He's jealous.'

'And you aren't?' said Lucius. 'That smile, that incredible hair. How did you know I was here?'

'Your elf.' Dobby appeared from behind the Potions Master looking considerably the worse for wear. 'Tess is being taken care of by our elves.'

Lucius stared at Dobby who blinked and rocked from foot to foot before bending down to pick up the salver. Quite vividly he could _remember_ himself being attacked by this same elf; an elf that supported the Boy-Who-Lived and a dangerous loose end. Even if the creature had just rescued him, Potter could not be allowed to discover its connection to the Malfoys. 'Go home now and wait for me there.' Dobby popped away.

Lucius smiled. 'Severus, have you a sickle on you?'

'I've a knife.'

'No. Not a blade. Money.' Snape dug a hand into his pocket looking mutinous. 'It is customary to pay for house elves in silver.'

_'_Why would you want another deranged elf?

'Not for me,' said Lucius. _Tess and Narcissa in the same house? The mind boggles._ _"Enervate!"_.

Lockhart spluttered and, with a sharp yelp, discovered the reactivated cuffs. He kept still as best he could. Mutinously he gazed up at Lucius. 'What do you want?'

'It was your elf Tess who captured me?'

'Yes.'

'I suppose she does all your dirty work?'

'Yes.'

'You're going to sell her to Professor Snape.'

'What? No! She belonged to my mother.'

'Really? What, do you think is the value of a dead house elf?' Lockhart paled but said nothing. 'When you are taken to Azkaban for torture and false imprisonment, what do you think will happen to her?'

'I don't need a house elf,' protested Snape.

Lockhart looked at him. 'You do,' he said. He turned to Lucius. 'Fine. I'll buy him an elf.'

'My intention is to deprive you of that one. You will find some other way of making a living.'

Lockhart looked stubborn but knew that he was in no position to argue. 'If he promises to look after her and you both promise that you won't say anything, then I'll sell her.'

_After all, he could always buy himself another elf. _Some people were too obvious. 'Agreed,' said Lucius. 'Severus, You won't be at Hogwarts forever and I'd like to think someone was taking care of you. Give him the money.'

Reluctantly, Snape extracted a silver coin from his pocket. Lucius uncuffed Lockhart. 'In full and final payment for the house elf Tess,' said Snape.

'In full and final payment for Tess,' grumped Lockhart, as he accepted the coin and slid it into a small coin-purse.

'You don't need to steal pieces of other peoples lives for ideas,' Lucius snarled. 'Try a muggle bookshop. Consider yourself warned,' he added, striding out of the changing room to breathe deep of the evening air.

'A muggle bookshop?' enquired Snape.

Lucius glared. He was wondering himself where that had come from. 'Is Dumbledore back yet?'

'Let's find out, shall we?' Snape pulled the Marauders' map out of his pocket. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Lucius looked at him. 'Pinched it.' He wandered off to stand where the late sunlight could illuminate the map.

As Lockhart tried to sneak past, Lucius confunded him. 'The Forbidden Forest holds no danger for as capable a wizard as yourself,' he suggested, quietly so that Severus wouldn't hear, 'and there are so many interesting things in there for you to write about.' Lockhart turned towards the forest looking thoughtful. _"Obliviate!"_

'Dumbledore, Hagrid and young Potter are all heading towards Myrtle's bathroom,' said Snape. 'And we've just acquired new roosters.' Irritation crossed the Potions Master's face. 'He would, wouldn't he?'

Quickly, Snape liberated a pair of brooms and they took off toward the castle.


	5. In which our hero is diplomatic

**In which our hero is diplomatic.**

Golden light flooded the forest beyond the deep crevice, that marked the end of the tunnel, that led from the chamber of secrets. In trees and in bushes small creatures plotted and practised destruction, mated, fought, hunted and were hunted, and some of them sang about it. Partway down the slope to where the rippling expanse of the Black Lake shone in light of evening, a henge like structure proved, upon closer inspection, to be a group of giant, stone spiders reaching up as though to worship the westering sun: victims of the basilisk's gaze. Beatrix herself was not to be seen.

Two wizards flew down to the edge of the water, Potter's head hunting from side to side searching for Hagrid, the Headmaster and Beatrix. Hopefully, not all together. They had found the boy panicking outside the locked door of Myrtle's bathroom and Snape had, without comment, handed him his broom. _'Severus can fly without a broom,_' the voice in Lucius head had pronounced.

_Sod off, _he'd told it.

'Over there!' Potter had spotted them. As they turned, light flashed from the reflective, wrap around sunglasses that both Dumbledore and Hagrid were sporting. Wondering if, for a wizard like Dumbledore, emerald and gold polka dots on a sort of browny purple passed for camouflage, Lucius wished he'd a pair himself.

_'Shouldn't have eaten that,'_ muttered Beatrix. Lucius wondered again how he had come by his parseltongue ability. Looking around he discovered that what he had taken for an oddly shaped ridge of rock at the water's edge was, in fact, a partially submerged basilisk with, for some reason, a mass of flowers woven into its crown.

Hagrid pulled, from one of his many pockets, a rooster. Flapping and looking distinctly irritated, it squawked without sound and then began to peck at him. _At least they silenced it, _thought Lucius. Dumbledore had not simply condemned the basilisk out of hand. Beatrix, taking note of the bird, reared up in the shallow water of the loch's edge.

'Ere, now. Stop that!' The feathery aggravation in Hagrid's hand noticed the enormous snake, choked and collapsed. The half giant prodded it. 'E's fainted!'

At this point, Hagrid became aware of Beatrix and his jaw dropped. Dumbledore raised his wand. Potter shot forward, made a snatch and circled back to thrust something that most definitely wasn't a snitch at Lucius.

Without any conscious thought or decision Lucius found himself, entirely unexpectedly, in possession of the Elder Wand. It called to him. He couldn't decide whether to smirk or panic or, and he wished he knew quite why this appealed, go "Mwa – ha – ha – ha" loudly and repeatedly.

The basilisk splashed, writhing, back into the loch. _'Should _not_ have eaten that.' _

'What's wrong? asked Harry, in English. 'What did you eat?'

_'Spiders. Delicious, crunchy . . .. Shouldn't have eaten the big one though.'_

'You ate Aragog?'

_'Wasn't introduced.'_

''E ate Aragog?'

'She. Her name is Beatrix. And to be fair, Hagrid, Aragog was quite happy to let his children eat Ron and me. We only escaped because the Weasley's car came and rescued us.'

'Aragog wouldn' do tha'!'

'He said you were his friend, Hagrid, but we were just fresh meat that wandered in conveniently. Beatrix never tried to attack us.'

Hagrid huffed and removed his sunglasses. Pulling a tablecloth sized handkerchief from his pocket, he blew his nose loudly. 'What about Myrtle?' he demanded.

'Tom Riddle, Voldemort that is, tricked her. Beatrix was put here to protect children so she's pretty upset about that. She'll kill him if she gets the chance.'

'Tom Riddle! Tom Riddle is You-Know-Who?'

''Yes. He tried to make me think that it was Aragog petrifying people. That it was you who . . .. Potter trailed off.

The half-giant's eyes closed his eyes for a moment, the colour quite gone from his cheeks. 'I'd believe that o' Riddle. Sneaky little shite 'e was.' 'Wouldn't a thought it o' Aragog. Sorry, 'Arry.'

'No harm done. Just . . . . Beatrix is alright.'

'Aye.' He gave the basilisk a sideways glance.

She nodded politely._ 'I apologised, you know? To Myrtle. That's more than anyone else did. They trapped her in the school. If that other girl had ever just said she was sorry, she'd have been fine.'_

As Potter translated, something rose, translucently, from the water beside Beatrix: Myrtle, looking much more composed than usual. 'She did apologise,' she said. 'And it really wasn't her fault. Riddle tricked her!' Golden sunlight refracted upwards, through the ghost's robes, as though she were, herself, a thing of water. 'We will get him. If he comes back here.'

'And how, my dear,' asked Dumbledore, 'did you come to speak Parseltongue?'

'I don't. Some of the Merfolk do. And, of course, Beatrix understands English. They were really pleased to see her again. They didn't know she was trapped or they'd have done something about it.'

'I see,' said Dumbledore, heavily. 'Then apologies are due. Long overdue. On behalf of Hogwarts I would like to express our deepest regrets for your unfortunate and tragic death. I am truly sorry. The restraint will lifted. ' Little, watery, ripples of light rose up through Myrtle and a sudden shaft of sunlight struck her. She smiled.

Beatrix lowered herself back into the water. _'I should not have eaten that.' _A spell hit her and Lucius wondered how long Snape had been standing there. The snake belched and then an enormous cloud of foetid gas erupted from beneath her.

_'Tell him he's my friend for life.' _

Lucius was just grateful for the offshore wind.

'She said . . .,' Potter started.

'Thank you. I got that. Legilimancy.' In lieu of explanation, he turned to the snake. 'I am Severus Snape, Master of Potions. I wonder if . . ..'

_'A Potions Master,' _said Beatrix, resignedly. _'Of course you are. What do you want? Venom? Blood? When I said friend for life . . .. I do hope that you aren't going to be a problem?''_ Snape wilted. _'Well, do you have a flask with you?' _

The Potions Master produced a tiny, ornate bottle and the Basilisk relented._ 'We'll probably find something suitable in the lab.' _She began to slither out of the water.

'There was a lab?'

_'There is a lab,' _said Bellatrix, on her way up the slope._ Unfortunately, I had to eat most of the specimens.'_

'I didn't get all of that,' said Snape. 'Potter, you're with me. Lucius, get off!'

Lucius dismounted the broom and let Snape have it. There never had been any reasoning with him in this mood.

A single brown leaf from the year before, dislodged by Beatrix, drifted down on a current of air and settled onto the water like a tiny boat and the siren song of the Elder Wand called to him. Abruptly, and again with no conscious decision, magic happened. At the end of the little stone jetty that had sprung into existence, floated a small craft with a high and slender stem.

'Ooh, a boat,' said Myrtle. 'I love boats and I'm never allowed.' She settled herself comfortably at the prow.

'Hagrid,' said Lucius, 'It's a lovely evening. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to take Myrtle for for a trip around the lake.'

'Er . . .'

'I know about the umbrella. '

'It's fer me dooties.'

'Of course.' Lucius smiled. 'However, with new information available, I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore will be able to arrange to have you cleared of all charges.' The Keeper of Keys and Grounds stared at him, dumbstruck. 'Hagrid, no more children in the Forbidden Forest. Are we agreed?'

'Agreed. Er . . .. You are sure you're Lucius Malfoy?'

'Not entirely. Have a pleasant evening, both of you.'

As the boat floated away, Lucius turned to the Headmaster. 'My wand.' said Dumbledore.

'This wand?' said Lucius. 'The Elder Wand?' He waited for Dumbledore to laugh. Silence and the old wizard's eyes told the truth. _"Accio Dumbledore's wand!" _Something came flying from above which Lucius caught.

'How did you find out?' The Headmaster accepted his original wand.

'I don't know,' said Lucius. 'Suddenly, I'm remembering a lot of things.'

'And do _you_ expect an apology?'

_For allowing so many to fall under Riddle's sway?_ Lucius wanted a lot more than an apology but he could not afford to fight on two fronts. A gesture and another little boat floated at the end of the pier. Lucius helped the older wizard into it. As they drifted over the glittering surface he sought for words, if not to turn the other to his side, at least to make him consider before interfering. 'People can only do the best they can with what they have. Sometimes their information is faulty. Sometimes they get it wrong. Can we at least be agreed that it is Mr. Riddle who is the problem?'

'Arthur Weasley says you've turned your back on him.'

'Severus and I destroyed one Horcrux. I gave information about another.'

'You have accepted your Muggleborn brother in law?'

'I don't know Ted Tonks. His daughter is remarkable.'

As the sky's glory faded and the first stars came out, Lucius spoke again. 'I have a suggestion. Several, actually, which I intend to put before the Board.'

Dumbledore nodded: he was listening.

''Professor McGonagall has been performing most of the duties for years. She should have the title as well as the responsibilities. She'd find things much easier. If you were to remain as Headmaster Emeritus, the school would not lose your skills but you would have more time for other things.

This time the old wizard's nod was thoughtful. 'We have three more objects to locate,' Lucius reminded him.

'We do,' admitted Dumbledore. 'Including, most probably, something within the school itself.'

Preceded by a joyous shriek a small boat shot past, merrily skipping across the surface of the Black Lake, Myrtle standing, her arms wrapped around the stem post, and a huge grin on Hagrid's hairy face.

. . . . .

Draco had clearly just been dragged from his bed. He stood, shivering in the torchlight. 'So, now we're on Dumbledore's side?'

'No. It is simply that I would prefer that he did not oppose us. He remains powerful. The old man has not been resting on his laurels. He has been trying to do too much; as well as expecting too much of others. I believe that I have helped him to recognise that.'

'But we are allied with Potter and the Weasleys?'

'You may prefer to see it as a possibility of their being allied with us. Until we can discuss this more fully, I will ask you not to talk to them. As far as possible, without being rude, stay away from them. Try to avoid being less than polite to anyone.' Lucius bent until he was eye to eye with his son. 'Draco, should the Dark Lord return, he will destroy us utterly. Or, at least, he will try. These are dangerous times but not lacking in opportunities. Do not allow a careless word to rob us of them.'

'I understand, father.'

He didn't really. Lucius looked at the boy, half asleep, hair sticking out every ehich way anf felt exasperation and then it fell apon him: a great wave of alien emotion comprising love and anger and grief and a pride worthy of Lucifer.

Are you quite well, father? Draco had stopped looking sleepy.

Lucius wanted to hold his son is his arms, if only he weren't too old for that. He found himself stepping forward and embracing him anyway. 'It has been an extraordinary day,' he told him. 'I shall tell you all about it when you get home.' He let go and stepped back. 'Good night, son.'

'Good night father.' Draco was pink cheeked with embarrassment. Lucius buried a smile.

. . . . .

Back at the manor, Narcissa still was not home. 'Mistress is visiting her sister Andromeda,' Dobby told him.

_As good a time as any,_ thought Lucius. 'Do not punish yourself,' he told the elf, 'and answer my questions as honestly as you can. You've been trying to help Harry Potter, Haven't you?' He wondered if Dobby were about to faint.

'Yes master.'

It didn't take long and involved no punishment but, by the end of the interrogation, tears were dripping from the elf's long nose and Lucius had a headache. _I don't suppose that you have _a_ny ideas?_ he thought, snidely.

_'Yes, actually.'_ Once again, Lucius found himself shoved aside, an observer in his own body. 'Tell me now the names of all those who know to whom you belong.'

The list wasn't a long one and, critically, it didn't include Harry or any of his friends.

That's all of them?'

'Yes.'

'In that case, we no longer have a house elf named Dobby.' Lucius drew the Elder wand and dried off the elf and the carpet. 'In honour of today's sterling work with the silver salver, henceforth, Dobby, you shall be called "Salvador". In Latin, "Saviour". Sal for short.' The elf was staring open mouthed. Lucius continued: 'Harry Potter wasn't at all pleased with you, was he?'

The wide eyed creature pulled himself together. 'Not one bit, Master.'

'Didn't think so. Sal, you've been trying to do the right thing but going about it the wrong way. I think it would be best if we were to work together to protect Harry Potter and stop You-Know-Who. Don't you agree?'

Dobby, now Salvador, goggled. 'Master is . . . changed.'

'Your master is no longer a slave to the Dark Arse. That is what you are feeling.'Now go and find something to wear that is worthy of Lucius Malfoy's personal servant. Have Mitty help you.'

The elf popped away and Lucius found that he had control. _Who the hell are you? _he thought.

_'I'm you,_' replied the voice in his head.

_How?_ Lucius thought the question.

_'Who cares? I'll remind you that if it weren't for me we'd not have made it past that Dementor.'_

_I'll remind you that if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been in with the Dementor! How did I come to speak parseltongue?_

_'A spell. And, before you ask, not one I know.'_

_'Who's spell?'_

For a moment Lucius could see in his mind's eye an aged witch: intelligent brown eyes, a helmet of steely curls surrounding her old, still beautiful face and felt a sharp, immediately suppressed, sorrow.

_'It doesn't matter. She's gone. Stop sulking. It's a bit late now to decide you'd rather have back the Dark Arse.'_

_I don't want him back! _

_'Fine then. What's the problem?'_

_Apart from my talking to myself?_

_'Given what's been going on, it's fortunate we're as sane as we are.'_

_You're sane? Charging in after a basilisk!_

_'And now we have Potter. Or we will. What chance, think you, that Dumbledore will send the boy back to his family?'_

Lucius paused before asking, carefully: _What have you in mind?_

_'Grab him and them before they reach the wards. Stash them in the Black Keep. If we can take them, someone else can. Someone far less kindly disposed. Get the little symbiote to help.'_

_And what happens come September? Just send Potter back to school? _

_'They'll notice before that. Probably.'_

Lucius smoothly slid the thought that the other was insane behind his occlumantic barriers. Better to leave that alone. _What's a symbiote? _he asked.

_'An organism that practices symbiosis. Bees and flowers would be a good example. Different species interacting in a way that's mutually beneficial, and very often involving cleaning. Fish and birds eating parasites. House elves derive much of their energy from the magicals with whom they reside, often taking on some of their symbiote's characteristics._ _"Past master of obfuscation and fully paid up member of the awkward squad," you called Dobby – sorry, Sal. Where do you think he got that from? And it's recursive. The healthier he is, the healthier you are.'_

_'But he's leaching off my magic!'_

_'No, he's keeping it clean; preventing a chaotic build up around you. If you want gnomes or even something like Peeves, get rid of the elves and wait a while.'_

Lucius thought about that. He thought about the other persona in his head. _How do I know you're me?_

_'I swore to it, didn't I?'_

_True. But what if you don't want the same things as I do?_

_'I want Narcissa and Draco to be safe. You might have noticed that recently we have become both richer and more powerful? We now have allies that we didn't have before.'_

_'And enemies.'_

_'They were always our enemies.'_

After a while, Lucius cast _"Expecto Patronum"._ The fox wasn't fully corporeal but it was there. It sat and grinned up at him before fading.

. . . . .

Even before it had fully stopped, children were spilling from the train towards their families and homes. Finally Draco appeared., aloofly ignoring the large bruise under his left eye. Behind him his friends, sporting their own bruises, looked quietly satisfied.

'Bye bye Malfoy sprog.' The Weasley twins swaggered past.

'What happened?' Narcissa's wand was out, repairing the damage.' Her son grinned at her.

'Bye Gred and Forge.' Lucius gave him a look that utterly failed to quell the young wizard. 'You never told them to stay away from me and you _said_ to be polite.'

Lucius turned to watch Potter take his farewell of the Weasley family and make his way through the barrier alone. 'Narcissa, Draco, something's come up. Go on home. I should be with you shortly.'

If Draco had been mixing with Weasleys, he'd no choice but to up the ante. Were his connection with the diary to be discovered, he could again plead _"Imperius"_, or the horcrux's own malign influence but he'd been finding it surprisingly useful having them as quasi allies and he was exceedingly loathe to give them up.

_Time to rescue Potter. _'Sal.' The elf previously known as Dobby appeared beside him. 'Follow Potter home but don't allow him to cross the wards. Tell me as soon as they arrive.'

'Sal already knows where Harry Potter lives.' The elf held out one long fingered hand. 'Sal can take Master?'

Lucius glanced around from under the shelter of the barrier's "_Nothing-of-Interest_"array. There would be something similar around Potter's took the elf's hand and, a moment later, found himself outside a neat suburban house. _What ever am I doing here?_ He thought. _Shouldn't I be . . .._

_'You're here to rescue Potter,' _said the voice in his head. _'The blood wards are affecting you.'_

_Oh, yes, but . . . . _With effort, Lucius got his head straight for a moment. _You do it._ He let the other take control.

He made no effort to breach the wards. Instead he physically pushed the bin over onto the pavement in front of the drive, scattering its contents. There was nothing to stop him from casting outside the wards, only a number of magical tell-tales, quickly identified and neutralised, along with a pair of kneazle crosses, set to sleeping peacefully under a hedge. The wards already prevented muggles taking notice. A repelling spell concluded the arrangements. 'Sal.' Lucius said, 'Wait here. The family, but Potter especially, are not to reach the wards. This mess should stop them. Call me the instant that they arrive.'

'Master?'

'We're going to take Harry to the Black Keep where he'll be happy and safe. He isn't happy and he isn't safe here.' Recognising that the wizard was telling the truth, the elf only nodded sadly. Tell-tales disabled, Lucius apparated home to explain to his family undetected. He was trying to decide just how disloyal it was to regard Narcissa's immediate enthusiasm as a bad sign when Dobby - no - _Sal_ arrived.

'They is coming back, master.'

Lucius, disillusioned himself. 'Let's go.' At the Dursley's house the garage door was already tipping open. Blocked by the fallen bin and its scattered contents, the Dursley's car waited at the entrance to the drive, just outside the wards. 'You take the woman and boy to the dungeon. 'I'll take Potter.' A rear door opened and the young wizard got out of the vehicle. Lucius grabbed him and apparated back to the keep. He let go in response to a hard kick in the shin. Potter spun away, wand in hand.

Lucius ended the disillusionment. 'Nicely done,' he said approvingly, 'and ouch!'

'Mr. Malfoy?'

'I need to have a little chat with your uncle. Make yourself at home.' He gestured. 'Choose a bedroom. I'll be back with your things.'

Again, he apparated. 'FREAK!' yelled Vernon Dursley, surging towards him. 'WHERES . . ..

"Silencio." Fortunately the man was wearing slip on shoes or the sticking hex Lucius had applied to his soles might have caused injury. As it was, Vernon found himself rolling silently, be-socked, on the road. Lucius removed the muggle repelling ward. 'If you want to see your wife and child again, you will put the vehicle in its usual place and tidy up. Behave as if everything were normal. You'll be watched. When you have finished, we will fetch you.'

He waited, while Dursley got up and made his way towards the garage, before leaning into the car to remove Hedwig's cage from the back seat and opening it. 'Shall I take you to Harry?' he asked Bobbing her head, the owl launched herself and circled to land on his shoulder. The large man returned with a brush and dustpan. 'I want Potter's trunk.' The boot of the car opened, Lucius stuck Potter's broom to his trunk, seized the handle and hauled it from the vehicle before apparating back to the Keep.

He found Potter on the balcony, looking out over the loch. Hedwig dropped from his shoulder and drifted across to alight on the handrail. The boy greeted her, stroking her head. Lucius let go of the cage and the trunk and followed the owl. 'Have you chosen a bedroom?' he asked.

'Er, that one?'

_The smallest. _'Potter, there's only you here.'

'This one?'

Still small but an excellent view. 'If you change your mind, just move. The elves have made up all of the rooms.' On all of the floors.

'Thank you sir. Why am I here?'

'I wasn't happy with your living arrangements. Where's your Godfather?'

'Saint Mungo's aren't ready to release him yet. Professor Dumbledore . . ..'

'Professor Dumbledore.' Lucius smirked. 'I wonder how long it will be before they discover that I've kidnapped you.'

'Kidnapped?'

'Just for the summer.' Lucius cast a spell: a line of vibrant red appeared just beyond where the loch opened onto the sea.'And now you can see the boundaries. This place is warded. You can fly here and do whatever magic you like. No one will notice. I'd recommend getting your school work out of the way as soon as possible, before you get out of the habit. I'm going to ask you not to mention your relocation to your friends just yet. Your supper should be on the table shortly. I'll be back later to check on how you're settling in.'

Lucius apparated to the dungeons of the Black Keep.

'HELP!' Well that made it easier to find them.

"Silencio." Lucius peered through the barred aperture of the store room door. Petunia was trying, vainly, to shield her son with her own body. He turned away. 'Sal. When Mr. Dursley has finished tidying up and put his vehicle away, you will fetch him here.' See that he doesn't try anything clever.'

Lucius opened the door.

. . . . .

When the meeting of the Board of Governors broke up and the others had left, Dumbledore made his way over. 'Mr. Malfoy. Would you care to join me for a drink? Despite the pleasant smile, it wasn't a casual invitation. Lucius acquiesced politely. 'Minerva?'

'Alas, I am already late for my meeting with Mr. Lupin. 'Perhaps you'd be kind enough to ask him to come up?' She was clearly enjoying settling herself into the office that had previously belonged to Dumbledore.

'Maybe later then?

'I'm sorry Albus, I expect to be busy all evening.' Something about her tone said: 'As you well know.'

'Congratulations, Professor,' said Lucius. 'It looks as if you have _carte blanche_.'

'Yes, thank you.' While the witch was undoubtedly grateful for his part in bringing about the recent changes at Hogwarts, she remained wary of him.

'If there is anything I can do to assist you, please don't hesitate to let me know.'

'Well there is the disgraceful state of the school brooms?'

Lucius was almost impressed. With the seat scarcely warm under her, she was already after him for money. 'I wonder if you'd considered a school fête?' he suggested.

'Unfortunately, that would be unfair to the muggleborn.'

'Perhaps those families that are interested might be brought in? I'm given to understand that most of them make it as far as Diagon Ally. Or perhaps a more . . . conventional pick up by bus from one of the nearer muggle towns.'

'You would support that?'

'We do ask a very great deal of them.'

'I see.' Clearly she didn't. Her expression said that she was wondering what he was up to. 'I shall think about it,' she said. 'Good evening Mr. Lupin.'

Lucius turned and nodded at the rather shabby individual for whose meeting the Headmistress was already late and made his way down the stairs. Severus was waiting by the gargoyle and, together, they made the short walk to Dumbledore's new quarters.

'She had you escort him?' Lucius asked.

'I met him on the grounds.'

Perhaps you should regard it as an opportunity to refine the Wolfsbane potion.'

Recovering quickly, Severus didn't ask how he had known about the werewolf. 'And make Belby even more money?'

Lucius was also wondering how he had known. And why he felt resigned to it. 'Then perhaps a completely new approach.'

'And when would I get time?

'Dumbledore is no longer Headmaster.'

'The school relies on the payment from Saint Mungo's.'

'Listen to yourself, Severus.'

'She wants to replace Binns and she'll need to fund her own successor.'

'I have every faith in Minerva McGonagal to do just that. I don't expect for you to be the one to pay for it. Whatever you agreed with Dumbledore when he vouched for you at the Ministry, it's been ten years. Enough. The situation in unacceptable. Either you do something or I will.'

They had reached the chambers of the new Hogwarts Headmaster Emeritus. His voice called to them to come in and sit down. Lucius entered with curiosity. He found a large windowed, comfortable room infested by an egregiously purple sofa.

'No, I wasn't sure about it either,' said Dumbledore. Now the thing was sunshine yellow. Lucius sat down. At least that way he didn't have to look at it. Severus perched himself on the other end.

'I thought you might like to try this.' The aficionado of polychromatic furniture was pouring liquid out of a cardboard box. No, pouring wasn't the right word, it had some sort of mechanism to control the flow. Lucius was handed a glass of dark purple liquid.

'This is . . . wine?'

'Try it.'

Severus was staring at his own glass with a sort of arrested expression. _No help there. _Cautiously, Lucius took a sniff and then a sip and then another. It was very, very fruity, as though some one had managed to bottle the essence of a bramble bush.

Dumbledore went away and came back carrying a pair of boxes which he placed on the small table beside Lucius. 'Go ahead,; he said.

Lucius put down his glass and flipped open both lids: in one was a golden cup ornamented with a badger and in the other a sparkling diadem. He closed them fast.

'The soul wants to be complete,' Dumbledore explained over Lucius' nausea.. 'According to the goblins, it should be a simple matter to ease the fragments from their objects once we have all of them. Then Tom will have no choice but to move on.'

'Perhaps you should let Gringotts take care of these?'

'Until we have them all, I believe that they will be safest here,' said Dumbledore. 'Don't worry, they are being kept well apart; as will the others once they are recovered. With regard to that, Severus has persuaded me to ask for your help.'

Lucius drank more of the wine. Actually, once you got used to its barbarian assault on the senses, it wasn't bad. 'You've found another one?'

'Yes. I believe so. We shall need to search the former dwelling of the Gaunts: Riddle's maternal family. I believe that a ring belonging to them may be in there. Something certainly is. Would tomorrow morning suit you?'

. . . . .

It had been eighteen days since he'd kidnapped the Boy-Who-Lived: days during which time he had got to know and, to his own surprise, like Harry Potter; days during which Harry and Draco, his son well warned against causing trouble or saying too much, had formed an adversarial but amicable relationship over Quiddich.

The Dursleys hadn't been enjoying their accommodations half so well.

They had been allowed to escape the first weekend. At the end of two long, sore, midge-eaten days Sal had brought them back. They hadn't tried again. Every weekday morning Sal, took Vernon to Privet Drive in time for work, and every evening brought him back again. It was, to Lucius mind, in the muggle's favour that he would say and do nothing that might endanger his family. They seemed to be adapting or had, perhaps, realised the pointlessness of complaining. Petunia hadn't said a word about the cast off clothing she'd been forced to wear when her own clothes had been ruined scrubbing clean the dungeon.

They had taken heart that the wizard had allowed their son his school things. Lucius found them under the harsh glare of electric light, seated around an old table, Petunia reading and Vernon and Dudley working through a text in French. 'Mal foi,' said the boy. 'Bad faith?' His father winced.

'Actually it's "de Malfoy". Named for a place.

'Like the aristocracy?'

'Well, you all still seem to be alive.' His departure was interrupted.

'Actually, we were wondering if your elf could pick me up a couple of hours later and maybe bring a couple of things from home?'

'I'll think about it.'

. . . . .

'This is it?' The question was rhetorical. Feeling the unrelenting malignity of the horcrux within the dereliction, he resisted rubbing at his arm. Lucius took in the remains of the hovel that had housed the last of Slytherin's proud line. 'You should let me go first,' he told Dumbledore. 'You don't carry the mark and, if one of us falls foul of something, Severus is better at healing. Best keep back.'

Lucius forced his way along the slightly less overgrown line that marked the old path. There was what looked like the partially mummified remains of a snake nailed, about head height, to the door. Leaning in he whispered _'Open' _in Parseltongue, laid one gloved hand on the ancient wood and pushed. The disgusting influence of the horcrux intensified. Ignoring the odour of decay, he peered within. A quick triangulation and he aimed a _"Leviosa"_ at the floor. With a creak and a shower of dust, a single plank sprung into the air. Beneath it something shone.

Delicately, Lucius aimed another _"Leviosa" _to raise a small golden box into a the dim light. 'Piece of cake.'

_'Bite him,'_ hissed a small voice.

Lucius threw the box away down the overgrown path and raised a shield just as a pair of adders launched an attack. _'Don't bite anyone,' _he hissed quietly. _'Go away.'_ Obediently, the snakes slid off into the grass.

Severus picked up the empty box, dark eyes searchng for its missing contents.

'Ah!' As Dumbledore bent, barehanded, to pick something up, Severus hit him with a "_Petrificus"_ and physically dragged him out onto the road. Lucius located the ring and scrabbled it into his handkerchief. Still held back by the Potions Master, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix stood aghast. 'It had me,' he whispered. 'In spite of everything, it had me. I'd have put it on.'

Severus let go of him, walked back into the overgrown garden and offered Lucius his knife.

The ring was an ugly, clumsy thing and the sharp tip of the knife slid easily under the stone. Lucius felt the magic of horcrux's destruction and dropped it just as a howling cloud of black erupted, seeming to block the sky before it dissipated.

Lucius stood and breathed in the sunlight. As birds began to sing, he ignored his cursed desire to slide the ring onto a finger and again picked it up using his handkerchief, put both into the gold box which he accepted from Severus, sealed and stowed away in his pocket. Severus replaced the floorboard and closed the door to the hovel. Together they returned to Hogwarts.

Back in Dumbledore's new quarters, it was easy enough to break the withering curse on the ring. The old mage got out his box of wine and they drank and talked together until Lucius realised that the former Headmaster had fallen asleep. As Severus was instructing elves to tuck him into his bed, Lucius glanced over towards the windows to discover that Fawkes was staring at him. Very slowly the bird's head tilted looking distinctly puzzled.

Lucius went on his way rejoicing, not least because, for the first time, he had seen something like respect in the old wizard's eyes. He rather doubted it would survive discovering what he had done about the Dursleys.


	6. In which discoveries are made

'Mr. Malfoy, what have you done with Harry Potter?'

Lucius was elbowed aside by his head's other incumbent: the insane one. 'I beg your pardon?'

'We questioned Vernon Dursley.,' said Dumbledore, from behind the large desk in his new sitting room,. 'He didn't want to tell us . . ..'

'So you used Veritaserum. And, probably, obliviation.' Lucius watched his captors' eyes - t_hey had!_ - and swallowed a wolfish smile. While the Dursleys would undoubtedly be unhappy about their month and a half of durance vile in the dungeons of the Black Keep, Dumbledore and his allies had just thrown away the moral high ground. 'What gave you that right?'

'What?' demanded Moody, outraged at being questioned. Over by the windows, Severus was silently shaking his head.

'Might is right? Is that how it goes? Tell me, how do you think Mr. Dursley will feel when he discovers what you've done to him?'

'After what you did to him?' The grizzled Auror lurched forward.

'I was not the one using magic to mess with his head,' said Lucius. 'Muggles don't like it. Many of them consider it tantamount to rape.'

'Malfoy,' growled Moody, 'we have permission to use Veritaserum on you but I'm thinking I just mightn't bother. Tell us where Potter is before you get hurt.'

'I've to doubt your claim of authorisation,' said Lucius. 'Harry Potter's magical guardian is after all, still undergoing treatment in Saint Mungo's and you have now informed me that you _actually attacked_ his mundane guardian. On whose behalf would you have claimed to be acting? The boy is family: kin to my wife. Would you like me to swear that my actions were in his best interest? I can, you know. Are you sure that you could say the same? What right have you to make demands?'

'I'll be back.' Madeye departed through the flue.

While the former Headmaster sucked all the harder on his sherbet lemon, Lucius ensconced himself comfortably in a chair. He'd to duck sharply when the phoenix glided over to land on the chair back. A tug at his hair heralded the realisation that Lucius was being groomed by the bird. He straightened to meet Dumbledore's wide, blue eyes. Fortunately, just then Andromeda put in an appearance. 'What have you been up to?' she asked, taking in the phoenix's ministrations and happy crooning.

Sirius Black arrived next. 'I removed Harry Potter from a bad situation,' Lucius heard himself say.

'How is that?' said Andromeda.

'His relatives were not treating him at all well.'

Black turned on Dumbledore. 'You left Harry with _Petunia_?'

'She is family' said Dumbledore, apparently oblivious. 'Dwelling as he did in his aunt's home, blood magic protected all of them.'

Black ignored him. 'Malfoy, where's my Godson?'

'The Black Keep. Don't worry: he's fine.'

'Portus,' said Andromeda, gesturing with her wand at Dumbledore's leather bound blotter. She picked it up. 'Well?' Lucius thanked Fawkes and stood up carefully. Moments later they had arrived in the Keep's rooftop solarium. They were met by a riotous scent of tropical flowers. Overhead, stars shone brightly Light twinkled up through the swimming pool and palm fronds swayed in a warm breeze. From below drifted soft music.

'This way,' said Andromeda. Deciding that discretion was called for, Lucius kept to the back.

Even Madeye's thumping down the stairs didn't disturb the couple dancing by the light of candles while the full moon hung in state behind them over the loch. The music was coming from a small device connected by a wire to the wall.

'Petunia?' said Black.

'Black? You bastard. Where were you?'

_Of course Harry would find them and let them out, _thought LuciusActually, Lily's sister looked rather well in the ancient muggle tat that she'd found in the dungeon, a broad, beaded necklace and a new, practical bob flattering her long neck and face.

'Azkaban,' rasped Black. 'In prison. The Ministry thought I'd betrayed them. Didn't bother with a trial.'

'What about Lupin?'

'Werewolf. If he'd tried to contact you, no guarantee they wouldn't have killed him.'

'Did _no one_ want Harry?'

Dumbledore spoke. 'I explained about the blood wards . . ..'

'You explained? You wrote a note. Take him in or Dark Wizards will kill your family. You explained nothing!'

'Now, my dear . . ..' Dumbledore reached up to lay his hand upon her shoulder. A single blow sent him flying. 'Ow,' said Petunia. 'Ow! I think I broke my hand!'

'One moment,' said Andromeda, 'You did. Three bones. Hold still.'

'Fix them. I want to hit him again.' As Andromeda worked, Petunias eyes never left Dumbledore. 'We've been reading about blood wards. How intent is woven into them.'

_Ah yes,_ thought Lucius. He'd forgotten about that.

'WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?' Visibly, Petunia wrestled herself back under control. 'Hide him? Don't let him be noticed? So we'd never let him shine? Punish him for doing better than Dudley? Don't let him think he's too important? Be as _normal_ as possible? Don't get too fond of him because he'll have to leave? All our best impulses thwarted so instead, we spoil our own son rotten? We're muggles. We'd no resistance at all. Your damned wards turned us into monsters. We starved him. We made Harry . . . sleep in a cupboard!'

Vernon put his arms back around his sobbing wife. 'Downstairs,' he said. 'I think they're watching "Star Wars". Might be "Gremlins".' The magicals stared at him. 'I got hold of a modern projector and some films. Those are their favourites.'

Lucius led the way down, swinging open one of the double doors to discover Harry, his cousin Dudley, Draco, and what looked like all of the Malfoy house elves sitting in the darkness, watching the screen, rocking and singing, 'Na na na na na na. Na na na na na na . . . '

Harry? said Black.

Obediently, the boy slid from his seat and left the cinema. 'Hello Mr. Malfoy,' he said, his face the picture of innocence. 'You managed to spring my Godfather then?'

_Crafty little sod,_ thought Lucius. When he'd told the elves to give the boy anything he wanted, this wasn't quite what he'd imagined. It did explain the Dursley's reading material though. And the look on Black's face was priceless. Moody appeared to be choking.

With Harry leading the way, they took the large, mirrored lift back up. 'Uncle Vernon got it working,' he said. 'Mr. Malfoy, did you know that the wards would transfer here?' he asked as they re-entered the lounge.

'Did they?' said Lucius in a tone designed to suggest that he had.

'Yes. Sal says so. Only they're different. Better. Aunt Petunia says they take their tone from the person who sets them up. That was you?'

The Headmaster was wiping blood away from his face. There was something slightly odd about it. It took a moment for Lucius to realise that the Dumbledore's crooked nose was newly straightened. His face was calm; Andromeda looked far too serene. Dumbledore drew his wand.

'Be very careful,'' said Narcissa and her husband wondered when she had arrived and if Andromeda had called her or if, perhaps, she'd noticed a singular absence of house elves. 'The wards here are a bit . . . unusual and don't respond well to prying.'

'Harry believes that the blood wards that I set up around the Dursley's home have been transferred. I am curious to see if that might be the case.'

'Of course, that might only happen if they thought of this place as home,' mused Lucius.

'May I?' asked Dumbledore, raising his wand.'

'I'll not answer for what happens,'' said Narcissa evenly.

'A simple diagnostic.' The spell wrapped the Dursleys and Harry in a pale, golden light, fading softly.

Vernon cleared his throat. 'My Company is in the process of being acquired by an international consortium. Petunia and I: we'll be abroad. Moving frequently. Selling the old place. We'll be happy to spend some of the summer here each year if it will help to protect Harry.'

Dumbledore, looking older and more tired, nodded 'Thank you Alastair, Severus,' he said. It would appear that I was mistaken.'

After Severus and Madeye the paranoid Auror had departed, Dumbledore remained, still clutching his blotter. 'I never had the chance to examine the Gaunt ring,' he said.

'Upstairs,' said Lucius.

In the rooftop garden, Dumbledore settled onto one of the stone benches. 'It would appear that I owe you an apology.' he said.

'And Potter? And Black? You took on too much, old man. And when you hadn't time to do it, it didn't get done.'

Dumbledore seemed to shrink in upon himself. He didn't argue. Lucius ran his fingers through his hair. 'What on earth is up with Fawkes?'

'He likes you,' said Dumbledore.

'I am not a nice person.'

'And yet, here you are.'

At least the old annoyance wasn't back to twinkling. Lucius sighed. 'Harry Potter is the one with the power to destroy the Dark Lord.'

'Yes.'

'Any indication what that power might be?'

'I believe it to be love.'

'Of course you do. Forgive me if I don't. I intend to do all within my power to make it as easy as possible for the boy. If I won't be the one to destroy Riddle, I can be the one to hand him the weapon; certainly supply back up.

'And so you befriend the Weasleys, rescue Black: all to get close to Harry. What will you do afterwards, when Voldemort is gone?'

_The same thing we do every night, Pinky—try to take over the world!' _said a voice in Lucius head. This, for some reason, was accompanied by a cartoon image of mice. He sank down onto one of the benches. _'_Let's burn that bridge when we come to it.'

The wind moved softly in the trees and fragmented the moon in the pool. He had changed. Lucius knew that. He wasn't the same thoughtless fool who had given a young girl a cursed diary. He didn't ever again want to be that person. Neither did he want to be that other maniac. What then did he want?

'The Gaunt ring?' murmured Dumbledore.

'Please understand that this is not a refusal,' said Lucius, 'but it is my understanding that the ring is dangerous. Especially given what happened during its retrieval. I would like time to consider.''

'Of course.' The old wizard disapparated.

On returning to the lounge, Lucius discovered that Sirius and Harry had gone downstairs to watch films. The women then excused themselves in favour of properly exploring the Keep and he found himself alone with Vernon. He turned to the muggle. 'Well done Mr. Dursley. That performance was worthy of an Oswald.'

'An Oswald?'

'Little, bronze statuette? For acting?'

'Oh, you mean an Oscar.'

Lucius gave him a considering look. 'I'm not sure about Petunia decking Dumbledore.'

'It came from the heart,' said Vernon. 'And we will be selling Privet Drive. Too many bad associations. If you do want us here for the wards, we'd be delighted to help. The electrical equipment is in absolutely marvellous condition for its age but it wouldn't hurt to have someone check it over occasionally. And there's lots of newer stuff that might interest you. Television. Personal computers.'

Lucius stared at him. Threats and blackmail were a frequent _modus operandi;_ his victim being so damned cheerful was unprecedented. He rallied. So, Mr. Dursley perhaps you can tell me what _my_ wards are forcing you to do?'

'Easy.' Vernon chuckled. 'To protect Harry. To avenge insult. Push the boundaries and look good doing it.'

_And find someone else to incriminate_, thought Lucius. 'I must say that I am a little surprised that you're not angry.'

'We thought about that, Petunia and I, and we are. But not with you. For the first time in years, we feel as though our minds are our own. My son and I are lighter and fitter. We feel better. Petunia is far happier. Dudley's not a toddler any more. She should have moved on years ago and now she can. This has been like a wonderful holiday. A break before returning to our real lives.' The large man smiled fondly. 'Those _cast-offs_ you've been forcing her to wear are not only the finest French couture: they are immaculate. Properly speaking, they should be in one of the better museums. That little dress my wife is wearing tonight is worth more than our car.'

Lucius blinked. He wished he'd known that. Courtesy finally got the better of him. 'Perhaps she'd like to keep some of them?' he suggested. 'Would you care for a drink, Mr. Dursley?'

If possible, Vernon brightened even further. 'You know your elves unearthed some rather fine Cognac in the cellars?'

Lucius looked at him. 'Would that be why you introduced them to the movies?'

'It seemed the thing to do. Actually,' Vernon continued jovially, 'the cellars here are amazing.'

'Are they?' Lucius felt aggrieved that, after discovering the generators, he hadn't even considered looking further for anything of value in the Black Keep. The notoriety of the family's warding schemes was such that few not of that name would even consider buying any place so affected; for which reason, he'd got it for a song.

_'He managed to get the electrics back up and running and install a projector,'_ said the voice in Lucius head, _'Right in the middle of some of the strongest and most active wards in Scotland. Ask him how he did it.' _Lucius obliged, letting the voice attend the muggle whilst happily reliving the discomfiture of his old nemesis Dumbledore. The mechanician had been right: the Cognac was, indeed, rather fine; the music from the little muggle device relaxing. A slight 'ping' drew his attention. The lift doors opened and Narcissa strode out carrying something that looked to have been painted using cutlery.

'Apparently the original sale documents for this are in the library,' she said. 'Given the provenance, here's a recent estimate of what it might fetch at auction. Divide by five for gallons. There's plenty more more in the cellars including a most peculiar bronze in the oubliette. Petunia, her family and friends are welcome here for however long she might like to stay. We will be reopening the road. Also, I think we should make Sirius an offer for Grimauld Place. I am assuming that he and Lupin will prefer to stay here with Harry.'

Lucius exchanged an only slightly panicked look with Vernon, (Petunia was looking particularly smug), and reached for the tantalus.

. . . . .

A faint 'pop' announced Narcissa's arrival, still wearing the clothes she'd found in the dungeons of the Black Keep. 'So, how did it go,' said Lucius.

'Brilliantly!' exclaimed Narcissa. 'They were trying to buy the clothes off our backs.'

'Pardon?'

'Not like that. Museum people. I've invited one of them to the Black Keep to look over some of the stuff. Don't panic. Her son attends Hogwarts. Asked if I was related to Draco. Petunia was entirely right, I think. Create a bit of a buzz and we will achieve a lot more from the sale. The trick is going to be avoiding the Statute. Although, that mightn't be so difficult. We were introduced to an old dear who'd been a guest at the keep in her youth. You wouldn't believe . . . . Actually you probably would. An informal supper at the Keep in a couple of hours. The elves can fetch them. Probably something larger and more formal in a week or so once the road is open.' She stopped and drew breath. Lucius,' she said, 'promise to be nice?'

Lucius stood up and looked at his wife Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining. For her he could do this. 'As you wish.'

Those appeared to be the magic words: Narcissa lunged forward and kissed him thoroughly. 'It won't go on too late, I promise.' She disapparated.

Not feeling at all comfortable at the prospect of dining with muggles, Lucius sat down. The voice in his head was saying nothing but he was pretty sure that it was smirking.

. . . . .

'After you,' said Black. As Narcissa stepped through the door, the rug rippled and floated across the dirty floor to cower in the shadows. 'Looks as though the old place could use some work.'

'Actually, that simplifies things,' said Narcissa, gazing with revulsion at the row of elf heads. The house on Grimmauld Place was not only as horrible as Lucius remembered, but filthy as well. The front door groaned as Lupin shut it behind them. _'Fiat Lux!' _Gas lamps flared into life. Sadly, the increased light in no way improved the view.

Curtains rattled back to reveal a life sized portrait. 'SHAME OF MY FLESH!' it shrieked.

'Now, Aunt Walburga, none of that,' said Narcissa. There was quiet. 'I stand by my previous offer.'

'Accepted,' said Black.

'Excellent,' said Narcissa, removing a contract from her reticule. 'Twelve Grimmauld Place, grounds and contents, sign here.' Black signed. 'Are you quite sure there's nothing you want?'

'Quite sure.'

'Who is here?' Something dragged itself into the hallway. 'Who is come to . . . ?'

'Kreacher?' interrupted Narcissa. 'What happened here?'

'Mistress said not to clean. Not to do anything. House of Black dead now.'

'I'm afraid,' said Narcissa, 'that your old mistress was mistaken. Mitty, come here.' An elf popped into being. 'Mitty, I want you to take Kreacher home and . . . Lucius?'

He could feel it: the tightness in his jaw and temple; the faint ache of his mark and that particular queasiness that arose from the presence of a horcrux. 'There's one here.' Lucius took the stairs at a run, threw open the door, crossed the room and broke open the cabinet. Nothing within was untainted by dark magic but the locket stood out.

Kreacher appeared beside him. 'Master Regulus . . .,' whispered the elf.

'He told you to destroy it?'

The elf nodded, a single tear escaping.

_Symbiote_ thought Lucius, reaching out to lay his hand on the servant's bony shoulder. 'It's not your fault that you couldn't:. It's protected. Hard to destroy but not indestructible. We shall see to it.' As the others trouped into the drawing room, Kreacher drew an enormous breath, strengthening visibly; Lucius felt his own magic calm. 'Kreacher, can you tell us what happened to Regulus?'

As the elf's tale unwound of the Slytherin's locket, in its bowl of poison, on the island, in its pool of inferi, all hidden in the cave beside the sea and Regulus' fatal if successful theft, Lucius saw the identical expression settle on the faces of his wife, her sister and cousin and most of the individuals crowded into the paintings in the drawing room. While the werewolf looked ill, the Blacks showed only an increasingly cold rigidity of purpose. 'Son,' said Walburga.

Sirius Black's chin shot up. 'Mother?'

'Bring my boy home.'

. . . . .

It would be the next day before Kreacher was sufficiently recovered to take someone to the entrance of the sea cave. Andromeda had the legal right to make port keys and so had demanded rather than volunteered that she be the one to go. The recovery party awaited her return in the Black Keep, Narcissa, holding Regulus' old Slytherin school scarf from Grimmauld Place, and Sirius, sufficiently subdued not to contest Severus presence, talking quietly with Remus and Nymphadora. Ted Tonks, having been volunteered to look after the children by his wife was already down in the cinema.

Andromeda arrived almost silently and was offered the scarf."Portus!" she said and they all seized hold of it, magic taking them to the breaking edge of the sea. There was no one else in sight on the narrow strip of sand and rocks. the sky was very blue and the bird haunted cliff face loured darkly above them. Sirius wrapped the old scarf about his neck.

From the warm summer afternoon outside, the shadow of the cave struck cold. Andromeda created floating light spheres and they followed them up into the further, dank reaches of stone and sand. It didn't take long to identify the entrance and its wards. 'It needs blood,' said Lucius.

'One moment,' said Severus, pulling something from a pocket and placed it on a rocky ledge. Enlargement proved the object to be the expanding case in which the Potions Master kept his portable lab. Briefly he ferreted within it. 'Dragons' blood,' he said, producing a vial of dark coloured liquid, a single splash of which caused the wall of rock to move aside revealing darkness and a wide expanse of still water.

As they crept into the previously hidden cave, Severus put the vial into the case and pulled out a flask. Before it had occurred to anyone to stop him, he'd filled it from the pool, turned and walked away. Behind him, grey lumps began to mushroom from the dark surface. Narcissa and Andromeda cast bubble-head charms upon themselves and Lucius was quick to follow suit. Snape ignored them all, in favour of crossing back to the ledge and pulling equipment and ingredients from his case.

'Lucius,' said Narcissa, and he turned to face the oncoming hoard of undead

'Snape and his bloody chemistry set!' snarled Sirius and the battle began. Freezing hexes solidified the surface so that the inferi could escape only from where they could break the ice, an ominous creaking preceding each group breakout like a bizarre and horrible game of 'Whack-a-mole'.

_What the hell,_ Lucius asked himself, _was 'Whack-a-mole'?_

The answering image of a children's game just gave rise to more questions and further confirmation of a rising suspicion. And then Lucius found himself experiencing something of a sense of _deja vu_. Except, of course, in inferi being rather larger than the average peacock. And not at all fresh. And he'd to wonder which unspeakable idiot had used _"Reducto"_ on something that close to him.

Cleaning spells hit him from two directions and he was able to vanish the upper half of his nearest attacker before being obliged stagger backwards. The lower half wandered off towards the beach and Lucius had to remove one of its feet to prevent its escape. Muggles did not need to see that. More inferi were emerging from the far, hidden depths of the cave and the recovery party found themselves being forced further and further back. Apparently entirely oblivious of the encroaching havoc behind him, Snape continued with his experimentation.

Something small launched itself from behind Lucius and took off the next one's head with a cleaver: it was Sal, and he appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. _'That's what you get for letting them watch violent muggle movies,'_ intoned the voice in his head. Kreacher was rather earnestly addressing Narcissa. When she smiled and nodded the elf produced – _was that cheese wire?_ More heads began to roll. Tess, her white apron no longer quite so immaculate, had stationed herself behind Severus' back with a butchers' knife and a pleasant smile. Lucius decided to rethink his attitude toward house elves.

Andromeda and Remus had a growing pile of bandage and rope wrapped inferi, wriggling like caterpillars but unable to move much, and acting as an improvised barricade. An anticipatory grin on Black's face got Lucius' shields up just in time to block the fallout from another explosion. Lucius 'accidentally' banished an inferius in the direction of the animagus who reverted to being a dog and ducked, the animated corpse flying over him to send an entire mob of undead sprawling and then someone _'reducto_'d the whole horrible heap of them. Black emerged from the resultant slop, shook himself and was immediately seized upon by a collection of inferi and partial inferi. There was a lot of squelching but the dirty dog proved too slippery to hold and scampered away. Quickly, Lucius cast "Impervius" upon his clothing.

Eventually, spattered and sweating from a mixture of exhaustion and revulsion, they had everything under control. 'What in fuck are you playing at Snape?' Sirius enquired, dripping filth and sounding more puzzled than angry.

The Potions Master appeared to notice the inferi, including the pile behind him for the first time and smiled at Tess. 'It occurred to me,' he said, 'that the Dark Lord would wish to speak with anyone obtaining entrance and that, while it is possible to question the dead, it is rather more difficult to make them suffer.'

'So?'

Severus sighed. 'There are small traces of something magical in the water. I could, of course, be wrong but I had theorised that there might be a layer of something at the very bottom of the pool. Something to prevent escape but keep the victim alive and available for interrogation. Preliminary tests would suggest a variant on the Draught of Living Death. It has, of course been many years so . . .. '

'What do we do?' interrupted Black.

'We could start by emptying the water from the top of the pool.' At his gesture, liquid began to flow up over the surrounding rocks, out and away, down towards the sea. Briefly Lucius compared the rate of flow against the remaining volume and, excusing himself, apparated home for a wash and a change of clothes.

Under the warmth of the shower, as the water ran clear and the terrible smell began to dissipate, Lucius found himself experiencing an strange and growing sense of unease. He discovered that the presence in his head had gone as inexplicably as it had arrived. Certainly it was refusing to answer him. _Something has gone wrong,_ he decided. His next thought was of Narcissa.

Thus impelled, having achieved what he considered a barely adequate level of cleanliness, Lucius strode be-towelled from the bathroom to discover Madame Bones and Professor McGonagal both sitting on his bed. For a moment he was convinced that this was another weird dream and then he took in the glazed expression on Bones' face and the fact that McGonagal was wearing Ravenclaw's diadem. She also had on Slytherin's locket. Hufflepuff's cup and Lucius old wand lay in Madame bones slack hands. The Elder wand was on the far side of the bathroom behind him.

"_Crucio."_


	7. In which our hero is challenged

**In which our hero is challenged.**

'Stop faking, Lucius. Get up.'The voice was that of Minerva McGonagal but the intonation was all Voldemort.

Lucius pried himself off the rug. _Get him talking._ If Tom Riddle was talking he wasn't cursing. 'How?' he whispered hoarsely.

'A cat with the prerogatives of a Headmistress can get in anywhere. She wa_s_ worried about poor old Dumbledore.' In an effort to put off the inevitable, Lucius concentrated on looking confused. 'The fool's still keeping secrets and she didn't know better than to open the box,' Riddle gloated, raising his wand.

'And so you possessed her?'

'It was easy enough. She was a cat.

'And when she changed back.'

'I had three horcruxes, Lucius.' The wand came back up.

'How did you get through the wards of the manor?'

'You keyed me into them yourself. But perhaps you've forgotten?' _Or been made to forget._ Knowing that his rage would show, Lucius avoided looking at his one time master. 'I trust that you do remember where the cellars are?'

Still clad in no more than a towel, Lucius made his way down through the manor followed by Madame Bones,with Riddle watching him, like the cat McGonagal could be, all the way.

'In!' Lucius entered the cell and the bars closed behind him. 'You betrayed me, Lucius. I had expected better of you. Perhaps you'll be relieved to hear that I still have a use for you? No? You are, of course, being demoted. Put the cup down on the floor, Amelia.' The witch placed the horcrux on the ground, before returning to standing blankly staring.

A very cold feeling came over Lucius. 'You intend . . .?'

McGonagal's face smiled. 'Yes. It won't take as long as with the diary. You have my mark, willingly taken: consent irrevocable to my taking from you whatever I want.' The smile twisted. 'Look at you. The flower of Pureblood superiority. As it's just ourselves, I'll tell you this: none of you deserve to live. You're all so stupid you sicken me

'Pardon?' said Lucius.

McGonagal's body leant idly against the bars. 'You should get out in the garden more.' The voice took on the intimate tone Voldemort had once used with his favoured followers. 'The most perfect rose, the most exquisite lily doesn't grow in a crystal vase: it grows with its feet in the mud. Your prized refinement only weakens you. Your magic is wasted maintaining bodies not fit to live. And as for your minds . . .'

Dropping the confidential air, Riddle spun away from the bars.' Hah! Didn't the name give you a clue? Sin eaters take on themselves the sins of others. What did you think I expected of you? A muggle superstition of course, but you could have found out. Indeed you should have at least suspected. So much the worse for you that you did not. "Petrificus!" Tell your elf to obey me, Lucius. 'Tell him that the order cannot be countermanded.'

Amongst the darker shadows, Lucius could see something that might have been a house elf and was too dismayed to say anything. 'Very well.' Riddle gestured. There was a choked sob as most of one of the creature's ears fell away.

'Obey him,' said Lucius. 'The order cannot be countermanded.'

The elf's other ear was cut to match. 'Next time, obey me immediately.'

'There won't be a next time. I'll be dead.'

'Yes and no,' said Riddle. Just because a thing's empty it doesn't mean it's useless. Not when it can be refilled. You, elf, go into the cell and don't leave it.' The petrificus dispelled, Sal obeyed. His wounds weren't bleeding, apparently cauterised. 'Don't allow Lucius to communicate with anyone or anything else. Apart from that, don't use magic. '

'How would you refill . . .?' Lucius began, now convinced of Riddle's insanity.

'You'll do that yourself.' Riddle glanced at the elf. 'Bon appetite. Incidentally, when do you expect your family back.? The thing wearing McGonagal smirked and turned away. 'I think it might be time for our visit to Azkaban. Keep up Amelia.'

When they had gone, Lucius turned to Sal. The elf was extremely adept at creatively interpreting instructions but he only shook his head and then raised his hands towards mutilated ears.

'You look like Yoda.'

That bought an almost smile. 'Help, Sal cannot,' he intoned mournfully.

The wizard took stock of the situation. He had a towel.

. . . . .

Lucius thoughts whirred; and they had plenty of space for whirring because he felt hollow. Something was standing just outside the cell, slowly becoming more real: he could feel it consuming him. Worse, he could feel himself being drawn to the life energy surging through the elf. He needed to act.

Sal, how sharp are your teeth.

'Sharp, master.'

'I want you to split this towel in two lengthwise.'

Using Sal's teeth?

'To start a rip. Can you do it?'

Sal could. Lucius wrapped half a towel back around himself. 'I want the other half turned into a rope strong enough to support my weight. It will need to be turned into strips . . ..' From nowhere, Sal had produced the cleaver from earlier on in the day. 'I thought Riddle forbade magic?'

'Sal is a magical creature. Only possible to obey so far.'

Lucius heart beat faster. 'What else can you get?'

The elf looked heartbroken. 'Sal only has this.'

'Is there anything you can do to get either of us out of here?

'No, master.'

'Never mind.' Lucius eyed the wickedly sharp blade. 'Give it to me.' As the elf fumbled, trying to avoid handing his master the sharp end, their fingers touched and it felt like cool water in a desert. Sal pulled back as if burned and then remained very still, waiting.

Lucius took himself away to the farthest part of the cell.

He would not do such a thing. Not if there were any way at all to prevent it. dementors disgusted him, This was no better. He wished he could be sure that his death would stop whatever it was Riddle had done to him, that he could, in fact, die. _First things first though._ 'Sal,' he asked, 'what am I wearing?'

'A towel, master?'

'No, it's only a bit of a towel. It is not actually a towel. Try again. What am I wearing?'

Sal looked at him askance. 'A thing that is not a towel?'

'Yes! Something that isn't a towel. And I am wearing it, so it must be clothing. It is, in fact, a short, towelling sarong.

The elf looked at him.

'Bring me the other short, towelling sarong.' The elf fetched the other half a towel. 'Now hold out your hand,' Face expressionless, Sal obeyed. Careful not to touch him, Lucius draped the torn cloth over the elf's long fingers; they closed on it tightly.

'Master has given Sal clothes?

'Yes, Sal, most excellent of elves. You are free. You don't have to obey anyone. Live long and be happy.' He let that sink in. 'However, if I might suggest: Harry Potter needs help and protection. You could offer to be his hench-elf. If you take the horcrux with you. Severus has a little knife that will destroy it. You can warn them about Riddle and not to come here . . .. Sal snapped his fingers and the cell bars sprang open. Then he and the cup were gone.

Lucius allowed himself to smile and then cursed. He was free, at least from the cell, but the elder wand was still in his possession. It couldn't be allowed to fall into Riddle's clutches. Perhaps he could call Sal back to take it away. He decided not to try calling just yet. The warning was more important. At worst, he could destroy it. Fortunate indeed that he had left it in the bathroom before his capture.

On the way back to his bedroom he passed his great-grandfather's portrait. 'Lucius! My wand. In the case.'

It was the work of a moment to cleaver open the display case and collect his ancestor's wand. While he was still wearing only half a towel, he felt considerably less naked and, with the cup far away, he had a little more time. Severus would deal with the horcrux. While he awaited the Dark Arse's return, perhaps he could arrange a trap. Wards could be made to keep things in as well as out. His dream of overflying the burnt out remains of the manor came back to him. _Fiendfire_ would take out the locket and the diadem. The wards would unravel after Lucius death but not nearly quickly enough for even Riddle to escape.

Once again fully dressed and with the Elder wand in a pocket, Lucius put the Gaunt ring on his finger. The notification of the destruction of the horcrux would be bound to rile the Dark Arse no end. Then Lucius made himself some tea. Properly fortified he set about some adjustments to the wards. Keyed in and, doubtless, paying attention, Riddle would know if Lucius left or used the flue or even sent an owl. He would not notice physical changes made to the components until the particular elements were activated.

With Amelia Bones under _imperius,_ Riddle wouldn't find it too difficult to break his followers out of Azkaban. Then he'd summon the others. Lucius just hoped they would have the sense not to respond. He was turning the final ward stone in the back of one of the shadier borders and becoming painfully less grateful for the fact that the peafowl had decided to avoid him, when Sal returned.

Within Lucius, the life-thirst surged. He avoided looking at the elf and crushed the instinct down. 'What can I do for you, Sal?'

'Harry Potter is sending his invisibility cloak.'

_That's actually touching,_ thought Lucius. _It would be practical too. Under other circumstances._ Then he decided that it would be wrong not to at least try to separate McGonagal from the horcruxes. 'Later on,' he told Sal, I will want you to take the cloak back to Harry. And . . . this is the Elder Wand. He should have that too. Will you do that, Sal? It's more important than anything else. It could help stop You-Know-Who.'

'Sal will do that.'

As he swung Harry's cloak over his shoulders, it occurred to him that he design on the ring's black stone meant something other than the sign of the Deathly Hallows, appropriated by Grindelwald and scraped, by an idiot, onto the black stone. He wondered if perhaps the ring had once held something valuable. Oddly, he was feeling better. He did not like the idea that he might be draining Sal even without touching him. He turned his attention to the elf who was shifting from foot to foot and wringing his hands again. 'What is it,' Lucius asked.

'Sal would like to be Lucius Malfoy's hench-elf.'

Lucius considered: his former servant didn't seem to be suffering anything. Lucius didn't want him to start. 'I would like that,' he said. 'Unfortunately, at the moment, I'm cursed. Let's see what happens.' Confusingly, he could _remember_ Sal's, or rather, Dobby's death. And how he had felt about it. He drew the Elder Wand from his pocket and worked fast, layering spells of protection onto his would-be minion and waiting for the warning from the wards that someone was at the gates. Finally it came.

Again the design on the Gaunt ring struck him. It looked like a diagram. And there was something tellingly different about the cloak. _The Deathly Hallows: a wand, a cloak and a stone. Aligned. _Without really thinking about it, he pulled the hood up over his face; ring still on his finger he grasped the Elder Wand midway along its length and held it vertical.

Nothing happened. Lucius exhaled.

'Should touch the ground perhaps,' said Sal.

The idea was silly and Lucius' fraught response was rage. He crushed that down too. While he had avoided striking the much abused elf, he felt deeply ashamed and decided that, for once, he would indulge him. Sinking on one knee he allowed the wand to descend. A moment before it made contact, he knew that that the small creature had been right. The cloak flared about him before lifting free, the wand extended upwards and the stone broke from the ring expanding. He was on his hands and knees inside something entirely indescribable, not least because he was unsure how many dimensions it possessed. In self defence, he closed his eyes.

'Finally!' said the voice that had once sworn that it was Lucius Malfoy. His eyes flew open and he found himself surrounded by a hazy, cloud like grey. He stood up. The voice appeared to have come from a large white ceramic ovoid supported on seven glassy pillars growing from a crystalline base through which coloured lightening forked and flooded. Slowly it rotated, the 'egg' tipping up to reveal an ancient being cocooned within. 'Were you busy?' While not a muscle moved on the wizened face, it was clearly he who was speaking.

''You're me?'

'I was you. Centuries ago. We had a problem we needed to put to right.'

_What could have been bad enough that time travel was a rational solution?_ He hazarded a guess. 'Dementors?'

'Hive mind. Individually stupid; the more there are of them: the more intelligent. In the year of Voldemort's ascendancy they were allowed to breed. When it was over, many of them hid. They had learned to hide their feeding: easy enough to push someone over a cliff or drive them to suicide. Unfortunately they became unstoppable and weren't clever enough to limit their numbers until they had sterilised almost all of the planet.'

Lucius took a deep breath and tried to consider the situation as an exercise in logic. 'Right. So if Riddle is stopped, then the dementors are stopped?

'And then we have to see they stay stopped. Time's . . . sticky. And slippery. Prevent something one way and later the same thing is likely to crop up for a completely different reason. And resistant: if you tried killing your grandfather, you'd probably trip and break your neck. Or it would turn out that he wasn't really your grandfather. I won't tell you how long we spent messing around before we decided to go right back to the root of things and try a lot of small changes to make one really big change. Specifically, how people feel about Lucius Malfoy so that you can persuade the Ministry to help the muggles reign in the dementors instead of repeatedly obliviating them. If we'd just left them alone to get on with it, there mightn't have been a problem.'

'Muggles can't see . . .'

'Technology lets them see temperature. Even from orbit. No problem at all.'

Not entirely understanding what he'd been told, Lucius decided to let it stand. 'Would not earlier have been better?' _How much better never to have fallen for Riddle's lies. _

'It isn't that simple. Not this far back. Fawkes willingly becoming part of the machine gave us the energy. We used the Hallows for direction. The target needed to be present with the wand and the cloak at a known place and time. Hagrid's arrest gave us all that. Even so, I kept getting dragged back. Or forward. Right up to that business with the peacock and the potion and now I find that Tom's damned mark can block me. I thought I'd died.'

'You may well have,' Lucius told him. 'What does it mean to be "Master of Death"?'

'You've the cloak?' Lucius found his recent memories being ransacked. When his older self had finished there was silence. 'I don't know,' the voice admitted finally. 'Potter was the last to have all three, and never simultaneously. Possibly an honorific the way Severus is a "Master of Potions." Possibly more. We still have a problem.'

'You want me to . . . move over? What will that mean for me?'

'Again, I don't know. I'm sorry but I think I have a better chance of success than you and, if it is death, at least it's not _Fiendfire_.'

Lucius thought of Narcissa and Draco. His older self was right. 'Agreed,' he said trying to think of nothing. The world turned dark.

. . . . .

It was very hard to wake up. By sheer effort of will, he forced himself to concentrate: to reconcile the different ideas occupying his mind: enjoyment of the comfort and ease of a young man's body, even in this dream scape, and simultaneously the power and complexity of the ancient wizard's magic and the astonishing things he knew. He found himself smiling. There had only ever been the one soul and it had reintegrated. The sound of a child's agonised wailing broke through his self-absorption.

He was in a place that looked like Platform nine and three quarters, or rather a pale representation of it, empty of people except for a boy on his knees beside a bench; the crying was coming from underneath it. 'Let me take care of it, Harry,' he said.

_Excellent!_ thought Lucius. Just as he got himself sorted out, there was another presence in his head; one which was effortlessly dominant.

Under the bench was what looked like a deformed and partially flayed baby. No wonder it cried. He reached out to discover that his 'hand' was only hand shaped and composed, apparently of light. At its touch the 'baby' seemed to collapse into a dirt encrusted strip of _something_, its torn edges faintly gleaming: a torn fragment of Tom Riddle's soul_._ Gently, he wrapped it around the others. The new arrival in Lucius head felt only compassion.

Harry was staring at him. 'I'm dead, aren't I?'

_This happened the last time,_ he thought. _Harry went back. His heart stopped in the chamber. He can return._

'It's Ok,' said Harry. I'll see my parents again.'

Why not? thought Lucius, and although he sensed that _the other_ didn't approve, he knew that he would be allowed and his desire was sufficient. They were there: James and Lily, moving towards them, seizing hold of their son and wrapping themselves around him. Lucius turned away. Let them explain.

After a time that wasn't Harry said: 'I'm ready to go back now.'

The child wasn't of course, but still he had a life to be lived. 'It will get better,' said Lucius. 'I promise.' And that too had been Lucius rather than the angel; if that's what indeed it was. Harry vanished and then Lucius was kneeling on the grass with Sal. The ring, wand, cloak and soul fragment were all gone. And so was something else. Even without baring his arm, he could feel it. He looked anyway. _Gone_. Lucius grinned.

The wards were reporting forty or more individuals approaching the manor, one of them with unrestricted access. _Not for long. _He got to his feet.

'Hallows is gone?' said Sal.

'I don't understand either,' Lucius said. I'm going to trap our visitors within the wards. I may have to set fire to things. If I need to stay to hold the wards, if I ask you to, promise me that you will leave at once and stay away. Harry will need you.'

'Sal promises.' The elf presented the very picture of dejection. _Sod it,_ thought Lucius. 'How about some champagne, hench-elf? Or would you prefer butter beer? On the grass in the rose garden below the terrace.'

He arrived to find the oblong where the grass paths met occupied by a small, white painted, iron table and chair, covered in blue coloured cushions, an iced bucket of champagne. a pair of glasses and a bottle of butterbeer. 'Where's your chair, Sal? Another arrived. Lucius lengthened its legs.

'Umbrella?' Sal suggested.'

'Perfect.'

Umbrella in place, Lucius sat down and took some time just to be alive. The garden was lovely at this time of year and it had been so long since he had seen the sky. Well, his younger self had, of course. The elf was sitting very upright and stiff in his chair. A small plate of smoked almonds had appeared on the table. Lucius sipped his champagne and took one. 'Sal,' he said, 'you need to relax a bit more. Sprawl out on the cushions. That's better. A hench-elf, especially a Malfoy hench-elf, should look as though he's enjoying life.'

'Yes . . .'

'Lucius,' the wizard said firmly.

'Yes, Lucius,'

The Dark Arse and his minions had passed the fountain with the tritons that marked the innermost boundary of the outer ward. The revocation of his stolen privilege took no more than words and a little blood. Riddle was still moving inwards. Lucius fully activated the wards and closed the trap. Nothing now would enter or leave except that he willed it.

Except, of course, for a phoenix.

And, of course, anyone _transported_ by a phoenix.

'Professor Dumbledore.'

The old mage startled, having thought himself invisible, and pulled his wand. He looked singed and somewhat battered. Also slightly concussed, although that might have been his reaction to Sal. Fawkes appeared, circling overhead and Lucius conjured a perch and a large bowl of fruit and crystallised ginger._ Hello old friend, _he thought. The bird landed warbling happily.. Lucius could recall the phoenix plunging into molten gold, burning until nothing remained but the metal infused with the phoenix's essence. A soft trill and he was again being groomed. Comforted, he bent to rest his face against the bird's brilliant feathers.

Dumbledore dropped the disillusionment. 'Mr. Malfoy . . ..'

Lucius straightened. 'What happened to you?'

'Riddle happened. You're looking far better than I had been led to expect.'

'Master of Death,' said Lucius. 'Whatever that means. The wand, ring and cloak have vanished. To the good, so has my Dark Mark. Politely, he conjured up a comfy chair. 'Champagne?'

'Thank you, not just now.' Pulling from his pocket a box, Dumbledore opened it to reveal Hufflepuff's cup and placed it on the table 'I suppose that might explain why it stopped being a horcrux,' he said. 'If Tom doesn't realise that, we might use it for leverage. I don't suppose you have thought of any way we might go about rescuing Professor McGonagal? And Madame Bones, of course, but the horcruxes are the main problem.'

The old wizard was trying, he would give him that, and it would be better for Severus if Dumbledore were more kindly disposed towards former Death Eaters. 'Call me Lucius.'

'Albus.'

From the distance, there was a scream. 'Devil's Snare,' Lucius remarked. 'Probably. Actually, I wonder if it might not be possible to rescue most of them. Do you remember Bellatrix as a child?

'Very spirited,' said Dumbledore diplomatically.

'Precisely. That slavish mindset never was her. And she changed so suddenly.'

You think_ 'Imperius?'_

There was a pop and Kreacher and Tess arrived, holding hands and looking very pleased with themselves. 'Reinforcements is standing ready in the Black Keep,' said Tess. 'For when you is opening wards.'

'First,' said Sal, from sprawled amongst his cushions, 'for rescuing, we must be taking away and locking up minionses. Sneaking up behind them. Elves is very, very good at sneaking. Sal is volunteering to sneak up behind and pinch minions . . ..' He'd vanished.

Even Fawkes was staring.

'Sal is a free elf.' The elves exchanged looks. 'He is also my hench-elf.'

'Not respectable,' grumbled Kreacher. Tess vanished. Lucius directed Dumbledore to the comfy chair and insisted that he sat down.

Sal popped back with something, or rather someone, wrapped in a wet sheet, cursing weekly and attempting to extricate himself. Dumbledore gestured and the lump subsided. Sal clicked his fingers: and the covering vanished.

'Rookwood,' said Lucius. 'Put him in the nursery.' Sal took the Death Eater away. 'Inescapable,' Lucius explained. 'Relatively easy to get people in and out of.'

Dumbledore nodded sagely.

Another pop. 'Tess is Severus Snape's hench-elf,' she reported triumphantly.

'Where is Severus,' Lucius asked.

'Tess only able to bring herself through wards.'

A pop announced Sal's gleeful reappearance with another cursing bundle. 'They is not noticing yet.'

'Sal, are you able to transport anyone through the wards?'

The elf considered. 'Not now. Wards is being much stronger now.

'Later on, if necessary and if you can, take our guests to the Black Keep. Protect yourself first though.''

'For now, Sal should continue to pinch minionses?'

'Use the defensive garden features for distraction,' said Lucius and Sal grinned. _In the meantime_ . . . He concentrated and the manor's roads and paths started rewinding themselves. Kreacher, do you know where the nursery is?

'Of course master.'

'Help Sal and keep an eye on our guests, if you would.'

'Kreacher will attend guests, master.' He, sheet and contents vanished.

'Tess can be helping Sal?' the elf asked shyly. Sal took her hand and they were gone.

'If you open the wards. . . .' Dumbledore began.

'Then they will flee. We will lose two horcruxes. He will make more.'

'Without the elder wand even . . . perhaps especially in Minerva's body, I fear that Riddle may have the advantage.'

'Not against _fiendfire_. Not within these wards.'

'You would condemn . . ..'

'To end this? said Lucius. Yes. Let's hope it does not come to that. I die the moment I cast against Riddle but I can prevent interference. If you want to bring in back up, you might consider how many Fawkes can take out.'

'Fawkes had extreme difficulty bringing me in.'

Lucius sat down and conjured a tea tray. After a while, Dumbledore helped himself to a jam tart.

Eleven more bundles had made their way to the nursery before a green and yellow topiary lion sprang roaring into life, bounding away through the shrubbery.

Dumbledore got his feet underneath him. 'Relax,' said Lucius, knowing all about old bones. 'They do that sometimes.' The old wizard subsided.

Lucius had added up the numbers and reached a conjecture. 'He's emptied Azkaban.'

'I would imagine that he intends to drain life force from from the others.'

'Probably,' said Lucius, brightening. 'Well, that's one good thing: keeping people out of Azkaban is easier than actually getting them out.'

'They are not all innocent.'

'No one should be food for dementors.'

'I would agree but . . ..'

Something seemed to shift and Lucius found himself really looking at Dumbledore with an understanding that was beyond human, nonetheless, supplying information. The old man had lost his way when he had lost his lover. He tried: acting a faith he could no longer truly feel; needing to trust but crippled by his own insecurities and crushed under the weight of other people's expectations. Lucius wanted to be angry at him but was finding it difficult for which he blamed the angel. He also had to persuade the old mage to continue his mission should he fall.

'No one should be food for dementors,' he reiterated. 'You have my permission to use legilimancy.' Dumbledore drew his wand and Lucius showed him the future that had been.

'Mr. Malfoy . . ..'

'Lucius.'

'Lucius, there is some _thing_ in your mind.'

'I believe it to be an effect of having had all three of the Deathly Hallows. It is not evil. You should not let it worry you.' He smiled. 'Although I do have to wonder what sort of bridge it was the brothers built.'

'A portal of some sort?'

'Maybe.' Lucius bared his forearm, 'The Dark Mark did not survive contact.' He shook his head. 'I don't have the Hallows any more.'

'Are you quite sure? Where could they have gone?'

Without consciously thinking, Lucius turned the question to the other presence in his mind and then he knew: he knew altogether too much; he had to let it go, to turn away and hide if he hoped to remain Lucius Malfoy. The presence withdrew. Seemingly from some vast internal distance he watched himself stand up. There was something immense where the grass of the rose garden met the drive. The outer triangle was silvery and partly translucent. By contrast, line and circle or sphere or something else was impossibly black. A line of green fire appeared, opening like a cat's iris where they intersected. He had the distinct impression that it was watching him.

Logically, it should have blocked his view but it didn't. At the same time as he could see the Dark Lord and his retinue straggling up the drive he could see this _thing _appearing both flat and solid, and he knew that it looked like that from whatever angle it was viewed, despite the fact that it didn't appear to move. At least it would look that way for humans. _The Hallowgate, _supplied the angel and Lucius knew that he would never again lightly use Avada Kedavra. Such a being aught not to be commanded. When he could think again, it had become darker and much colder. He looked up to see a roiling sky full of dementors.

'What foolery is this, Lucius?' McGonagal, possessed by Riddle, was standing almost close enough to touch the Hallowgate.

'It's not possible to summon them,' murmured Dumbledore, referring to the horcruxes. 'Can she pass through it?

'Yes,' said Lucius. 'Without harm.'

Riddle blocked the summoning charm and was starting to move back when Sal appeared beside him. A snap of the fingers and the Dark Lord wearing McGonagal's body was launched forwards and upwards like a football.

The instant she had passed through the portal she reverted to felinity. Twisting mid-air and landing gracefully, ears down and hackles up, the cat shot under the table and then turned, hissing, to face the incomers, most of the whom were collapsing to the ground. The sky turned red, darkening to near black before brightening as the outer wards ruptured. If he could have felt anything, it would, he thought, have been stark terror. He watched the dementors spiralling down only to disappear silently through the portal. When they had all gone, the Hallowgate folded into itself in a way that was eye watering and entirely disturbing and, along with the presence, disappeared.

Lucius drew a deep breath. While he had no doubt that he would, at some point in the future, be grateful, it had been too much. He refilled his glass and emptied it.

'Mr. Malfoy?' said Dumbledore. 'Lucius?' An auror was helping Madame Bones up.

Lucius sat down and put his head in his hands.

'I suppose that I should be grateful to you,' mused Dumbledore, if you had let me have the ring, you might have had difficulty getting it back and then where would we be?'

'I never want to see any of the Hallows again.'

He pulled himself together. After a very, very long lifetime, he had been rather proud of his mind. Now it felt somehow ripped open and expanded, something like a fresh breeze was blowing through it and he was experiencing an irritatingly youthful compulsion to act. 'What do you think she would say to you, Albus?' he asked. 'What is there that you could do for Ariana?' Go and make up with your brother.' Madam Bones was on her feet and on her way over. 'But first, can I ask you to deal with the ones that I can't send to the nursery?'

Dumbledore patted his shoulder and wandered off. Professor McGonagal emerged from under the table and, returning to human, gave him a very caustic look. Lucius apparated to the Keep where he was nearly knocked flying by his son. He wrapped his arms around the boy and let his wife, (_Narcissa, after so long mourned, alive),_ hold them both. 'The nursery is full of the people from Azkaban,' he told her. It didn't matter. Nothing else mattered. But she had a right to know.

'I'll take care of it,' she said. 'Riddle is gone?'

'Gone and no one was hurt.' Lucius looked up to see Ministry personnel, former Death Eaters who had refused to answer Riddle's summons and members of the Order of the Phoenix staring at him. _Reinforcements. _They had not been necessary but now he had an opportunity. 'I had the wand and the stone and the Harry sent me the cloak. For a very brief time I was Master of Death. I opened the Hallowgate and Sal, my elf, pushed Riddle through it. Professor McGonagall is fine.' Moody disapparated. The rest of them stared. 'I intend to celebrate. You are all very welcome to join me. As are your families. You'll want to tell them first, of course. Narcissa, you're good at this . . ..'

'Champagne and nibbles?' Narcissa smiled.

. . . . .

It was a very strange party, with most people dressed just as they had been when they received the invitation. It started with champagne and then little pies and cakes and finger food. More and more people were arriving and Lucius was wondering where the supplies were coming from. 'Petunia's out with Mitty raiding twenty-four hour supermarkets in the greater London area,' confided Narcissa.

'Good grief.'

'She's very resourceful, you know. I suppose that muggles have to be.'

The lift opened and a raiding party of young children headed by Cartimandua Goyle, bearing a large water gun, emerged and made off with a large Black Forest Gateau, raspberry roulade. ice cream and fruit pies. Perhaps I should check on them, said Lucius. He took the stairs, unsurprised to find himself being followed by Gandolf Goyle and Molly Weasley. Leaving the stairwell they were nearly run down by a shrieking gang of five to ten year olds pursued by a large quilted crocodile snapping its cloth teeth and looking surprisingly ferocious.

'Lucius,' said Gandolf. 'Why was it ticking?'

'It's from a muggle children's entertainment. 'There's a small TV lounge set up upstairs, if I can find someone to press the buttons.' Gandolf and Molly exchanged looks. Lucius led the way to the gymnasium where a snowball fight was under way, overseen by an elf with a tureen of hot chocolate. Rather more elves than were perhaps strictly necessary to watch the children were sitting in the back of the cinema watching something involving lots of explosions. Some of them were holding hands. One of them came out.

'Can we be helping yous?'

'I wanted to show them how well our younger guest were being taken care of,' said Lucius.

Swelling with pride, the elf led the grand tour. As the door shut on a room full of sleeping toddlers, Lucius thought that Molly might cry. Lucius took her arm and escorted her back to her family to discover that a special edition of the _'Prophet' _had been delivered carrying a surprisingly accurate rendition of events along with the news that Bartemeus Crouch junior had shown up at Saint Mungo's alive but unable to remember even his own name and been sent to the Janus Thickey ward.

By the time the fireworks went off over the loch there were perhaps a thousand people in and around the Black Keep.. It might have been the realisation of the close call they had had or the miraculous disappearance of the dementors but it had been a surprisingly peaceful evening so far. Lucius discovered Draco (where else) on a broom overflying the keep. What no longer surprised him was the people with him.

'Harry, if I could have a word.' The boy swooped down and they found quiet place to talk.

'I'm sorry, Harry, I no longer have your father's cloak . . ..'

'That doesn't matter. Draco's still got you. ''

'I was going to say that I can't replace if but I do know where there are other cloaks and I can arrange to purchase . . ..'

'. . . and anyway, I don't think it was mine. Not really. You needed it to open the portal.' Lucius looked at him. 'I did want to thank you, though. Things are much better like this.' For a moment he looked as if he might say more but instead he mounted his broom and launched himself into the night.

'Either must die at the hand of the other,' murmured Dumbledore from behind him. 'It never occurred to me that Harry might appoint a champion.'

'Is that what you think happened.'

'I did say that I thought that Harry's power was love.'

Lucius remembered what he knew about time and the persistence of certain events and tried to convincee himself that there was absolutely no need for him to throw the hairy old aggravation from a great height personally. Searching within himself, he could find no trace of the angel. Around him a little world of relieved and happy witches and wizards continued to party on into the night. He was the hero of the hour: the first part of his mission was complete. His duty to the future remained but it didn't terrify him.

All, he was sure, would be well.


End file.
